


The Machete Girl

by ChloeMagea



Series: The Hoodrat and the Redneck [1]
Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: Ableist Language, Angst, Angst and Smut, As trigging as the world but be if it ended, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gore, Love/Hate, Opposites Attract, Racism, Racist Language, Stereotypes, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, from dislike to buddies, interracial, racist terms, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 92,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeMagea/pseuds/ChloeMagea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tale the Redneck and the Hood-rat. Brandy Simmons has been on her own since the start of the of end of the world, until she meets a man with a crossbow in the woods. He is her polar-opposite, yet she finds they have far more in common than she could have ever guessed.  From distaste to friendship and maybe something more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Shot

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really a 'love story' as written by a lot of Daryl fans. This takes a more realistic approach to relationships in the apocalypse and highly focuses on Brandy's relationship with the group just as much as her relationship with Daryl. Takes place during the events of the show and is canon compliant.

Chapter 1

How long had she been out by herself?  Just eighteen years old, brown skin and frizzy hair. She ran her hands through her brown hair streaked with dimmed, cheap, washed out, candy apple red in the side bang. It had been on sale months ago at the hair store she frequented for $6.99, and the color didn't match her skin tone well. It was even uglier now that her hair was all stiff and dirty.

She couldn't remember the last time she had a proper shower. Her feet were hurting from her boots, her tight, tiny shorts becoming uncomfortable. Her knotted halter-top was grass stained, not the best clothing to wear for running around in the woods during the end of the world. She had stolen them from a department store, forgetting it wasn't about looking cute anymore, but old habits died hard. She scratched her right cheek, her nails running over the month-old blackened scratches that drew themselves on her skin.

There was a pop somewhere in the bush. A twig perhaps? She gripped her two machetes in her hands and glanced around. The blades had belonged to her little brother.  He had always been into weapons, for the life of her she would never know why her father let her 14-year-old brother have such dangerous things. It had to have been a 'male thing,' she figured. She kept walking, knowing she was more than likely safe. A few Garglers didn’t scare her; crazy alive sons of bitches did. She saw firsthand how insane some people got after the world crashed and burned, the shock of it all turning them into psychopaths; at least Garglers were stupid. There was another snap of a twig, and she stopped dead, narrowing her eyes and turning slowly around to see what it was. She turned the right side of her face towards the noise- her 'bad side,' she called it. And as she glanced over, she saw a man standing there for a split second in the thick brush. He had a crossbow raised to his eye. She inhaled to speak, but before she could make a sound, he shot. She was knocked off of her feet and into the mud by the force of the shot. A loud, painful yelp jumped from her lips. The arrow had dug itself in just below her collarbone.

"What the fuck!?" she screamed, trying to pull the arrow out.  
  
She heard her attacker swear under his voice and run towards her.  
  
"Do you just go around shooting people!? You stupid redneck motherfucker-ah-God!"

She yelled as she writhed in pain in the mud, snatching the arrow from her body. He bent over her and covered her mouth with his hand.

"Shut up!" he said with an angry whisper, but the girl still uttered under his palm, trying to get his hand off of her mouth.  
  
He looked down at her, with her darkened scratches on her right side and one white, cloudy-looking eye. That was the thing that made him shoot her; at first he thought she was normal, until she turned to look at him. Her one eye was cloudy like a Walker’s, but it was apparent he should have gone with his first mind.  
  
"I said shut up!" he hissed again.  
  
She stopped fighting, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.  
  
“Fuck!” he uttered, putting two fingers against her neck; there was still a pulse. She must have just passed out from the pain. He grabbed her machetes, slipping them both under his belt. He picked the girl up. He had no choice; she would die if he did not take her back to camp. Daryl Dixon was an asshole, but he was not as much of a dick as to let a young woman die there in the dirt under the trees and burning summer sun.

* * *

 

"Hey! I need help!" Daryl yelled, staggering into the camp. Her look was deceiving; she was heavier than she seemed, and he cursed that he also had to carry her backpack and weapons.  
  
"Are you fools blind!? I need your fucking help!" he yelled again, and this time people listened. Everyone was still shaken up from the Walker attack that happened just last night, and that had killed some of their group members. He went out to get some extra food for their journey to the CDC, and instead he brought back a black girl.

What a fuckin’ day. He thought.

"What happened?" the old one, Dale, asked, wearing his ever-present hat.

"I- I thought she was a Walker," Daryl said, with a slight choke as he glanced down at the girl in his arms.

"Why on Earth would you think she was a Walker? I mean look at her, she looks alive to me," Dale added, with that same surprised expression that he always had.

"Look man, I have my reasons! Now are you going to help me or what?"

"Put her in one of the tents, we'll take care of her there," Rick ordered, taking the girls pulse.

* * *

 

She slowly woke up, her eyes fighting to stay open to meet the blue plastic of the cheap tent. She put her hand to her chest, feeling that the puncture was stitched up with normal needle and thread. It must had not been that deep, but shit, did it hurt. If it had dug any deeper than it had, it might have killed her. She glanced over only to find the man that shot her sitting in the corner of the tent, watching her. She had a better look at him now; dark brown greasy hair, grimy skin, and narrow, questioning blue eyes. Her eyes left his face, landing on his side and noticing his hand on his knife. He just looked at her disfiguring scars and her one white eye.

"What happened to yer' face?" he asked, with a rough tone of voice which reminded her of sandpaper.

"Well, that's rude," she murmured as she sat up on her elbows. "You tried to kill me, and now you want to ask me twenty questions? Fuck ya, Redneck."

"Hey, you watch yer' mouth," he hissed pointing at her.  
  
The girl narrowed her eyes at him, and sucked her teeth.  
  
"What happened to yer' face? And what is yer' name?" Daryl demanded an answer from her. She said nothing at first, running her hand on the stitched area.

"Brandy."  
  
She spoke before she sat up and reached for her backpack, and rummaged through it. She pulled out a container of prescription pills, popped two, and then shoved them back into the bag. He was still glaring at her. Brandy raised an over plucked eyebrow at him.  
  
"My face looks the way it does because of an accident-- I'm ain’t bit. I'm blind in my right eye," she mumbled, scratching her head.  
  
The man said nothing to her; he just kept glaring at her.  
"Who do I owe the pleasure?" she asked with a fake, mocking smile as she ran her finger over her new scar.

"Daryl. Daryl Dixon," he answered, three of his fingers still on the hunting knife that was at his side.

"Well, now. That's a surprise. I was expectin' something like 'Tim Bob' or 'Bubba,'" Brandy jeered, getting up and grabbing her knapsack.

"Thanks Daryl, for almost killin' me," she hissed turning and storming out of the tent.

"Hey! Wait!" Daryl yelled following her past the old RV. The other members of the group stopped and looked over at the commotion. Brandy stopped and turned around, her half-pretty face wrinkling with anger. He pulled her two machetes from up under his belt and handed them to her. The young woman snatched them away and kept walking.

"Bitch…" Daryl cursed under his breath.

"Whoa, whoa," she heard someone call out from behind her; she was not going to stop, but whoever it was caught up to her.  
  
"Hey, hold on," a tall man who had on a Sheriff's hat said to her.  
  
Brandy turned to look at him, and as soon as she did she could tell that he was shocked by the right side of her face. His blue eyes widened, and scanned over her scars and her eye. He instinctively went to touch the scars.  
  
"Hey, you alright?" he asked.  
  
Brandy sucked her teeth and whacked his hand away from her face.

"It's from an accident," she hissed at him.  
  
"I'm sorry-I-I thought…" he started to say to her, shaking his head.  
  
Another man approached them, this one with wavy brown hair and dark eyes. He looked at her the same way everyone else had.  
  
"It's from an accident," the first man said to man at his side, knowing what he would say to her. "What's your name?"

"Brandy Simmons."

"I'm Rick," he said, shaking her hand.  
  
The other man introduced himself as well; his name was Shane.  
  
"You know you can stay, you don't have to go back out there alone," Rick said, putting his hands on his hips. She let out a chuckle at his words.

"Yer' meth friend almost killed me," she said, pulling her halter-top collar to the side and showing them the stitches right under her protruding collarbone.

"He mistook you for a Walker. I'm sorry that happened," Rick apologized. "We are headed to the CDC, you can come with us."  
  
Brandy snorted and tapped her booted foot in the dirt.  
  
"I heard that there might be a cure," he added.  
  
Brandy stopped, turning around with a look of speculation, narrowing her eyes and searching Rick's face for a trace of a lie. She found none.

"Whateva' but two things. Numba' one, I keep my weapons," She said, looking down at her machetes.  
  
Rick noticed a gun on her hip with a silencer.  
  
“Numba' two, stay out of my business," Brandy said to him, and turned to walk away. **  
**


	2. The Redneck and the Hoodrat

Brandy had met almost everyone. There was Rick's long-haired wife who had an air of "boss lady" entitlement, and she could tell that Lori thought she was the head bitch of the group; Rick’s son, Carl, who was allowed to wander around all over the place-- Brandy thought someone should try to keep that little boy in the RV, before he became a Walker's snack; the blonde, Andrea, whose sister had just died, poor thing; the old man, Dale, with his fishing hat-- it was clear he was the father of the group; the woman who reminded her of a scared deer, Carol, and her little girl, Sophia-- apparently, her abusive husband had died the night before, too, during the walker attack; T-Dog and an older black lady named Jacqui-- Brandy was relieved that there were other black people around. Also, there was the Asian boy named Glenn; once again, Brandy was happy there was another minority among them. She didn't want to be the only black person in a group of white people. She had never been a 'token' before. Even though the world had ended, it was hard to just forget social issues of the old world. Lastly, there was the poor bastard named Jim, who had been bitten, but Rick had hoped that they could get him to the CDC, and get this so called 'cure.'

Brandy had been alone almost the whole time since it all started, with the exception of a few young men who she had bumped into on her travels. Only giving herself a few moments of pleasure with them before moving on, she never had a pack, or a group. But these people, they wanted her to stay. She didn't understand why, or why it made her so annoyed, yet slightly relieved.  
  
Everyone was all packed up and ready to go to the CDC. Brandy walked around and looked for a car that wasn't already full. She let out a sigh, and came to a blue and white old Ford pick up truck. She glanced up at a black motorcycle that was in the truck bed, and instantly she raised an eyebrow at the white 'S.S.' letters that decorated it.

"Wow… that's fuckin' retarded."  
  
Brandy glanced over and saw Daryl walking towards the truck.

_Fantastic, it just had to him._

He stopped and looked at her, holding that crossbow in his hand. Out of habit Brandy, chewed her bottom lip. It had been something she started doing in high school, because the boys thought it was sexy; now she did it out of nervousness, and uncomfortable uncertainty.

"Uh, ya got any room?" she asked him cautiously, clearing her throat and scratching the back of her neck. Glancing back to that bike, those white letters made her even more uncomfortable.  
  
He narrowed his eyes and scoffed at the young woman, his eyes landing on the stitches under collarbone.

"You just gonna' stand there? Get in," Daryl grunted harshly, not in the least excited about her riding with him.  
  
She pulled her machetes from her belt and slipped into the truck, setting her blades and her backpack on the floor of the car.

* * *

There was an awkward silence between them as they drove on the empty highway. She remembered a time when that stretch of expressway was full with cars during rush hours. Brandy was uncomfortable, to say the least, sitting there next to him, the silence was almost roaring.  
  
She found herself going through her bag, finding a pack of cheap cigarettes at the bottom. American Spirits brand; they tasted horrible, but they were the only ones she could find. Slipping one in her mouth, she lit it with the white Bic lighter, sucking her teeth as she realized it was almost out of fluid. She glanced over at Daryl, who was focused on the road-or something else. Ever since the world went to shit, she had became perceptive to the people she bumped in to; it was obvious that there was something was on his mind. She thought about asking him, but decided against it.

"You want one?" she asked instead, breaking the silence between the two after a long drawn out hour.  
  
He glanced over at her as she held out a cigarette in between two of her fingers. He just shook his head and looked back towards the open road. Brandy shrugged, and placed it back in the pack.  
  
"Nice S.S bike," she spoke sarcastically.  
  
Just talk about something, anything. She could not take another mile of nothing but the sound of the truck. He sucked his teeth and spat out of the window.

"It was my brother's," he said shortly.  
  
Brandy shook her head. That's what it was, he was thinking about his brother. He must had been an asshole for having a Nazi bike. Brandy was happy that whoever he was, he wasn't there now.  
  
"What the hell were ya doin' out there by yer' self?" Daryl asked, glancing back over at her.

"Nothin’, just wanderin'."

"Yeah, that's stupid. Could of got yer'self chewed up."

"Well, then it's a good thing that I'm tougher than I look," she stated, running her fingers through her frizzy, dirty hair.

"Talk big, but I don't think yer' able to back it up," Daryl taunted.  
  
Brandy let out a low laugh and rolled her eyes.

* * *

They had stopped for a while. There was something wrong with the RV, and Jim was not doing well. Everyone got out to talk about what to do about this damning turn of events, but Brandy stayed in the truck. It wasn’t her place to voice any type of opinion on anything, seeing as she just met them.

"How's our newest girl?" Shane asked, stepping next to Daryl and glancing over to the tuck, and Brandy, who now had her boot covered feet resting on top of the glove compartment door. She was fanning herself off with one hand, and with the other she was examining the crossbow that lay next to her thick thighs. Daryl just shrugged at the question and rolled his eyes.

They had fixed the RV, and Jim had decided to stay behind and die in peace; with that they were back on the road.

Once again there was nothing but the sound of the old truck. They had been riding for while, and there still was no apology from Daryl for shooting her.

She expected something, anything. Who shoots someone, almost killing them, and doesn't even think of saying sorry? Brandy rolled her eyes at the thought. She went through her book bag again, pulling out an MP3 player that she had found while raiding houses for supplies. She turned it on; the battery was almost dead. She might have had maybe another half hour left on it.

Daryl glanced over at her, watching her untangle the white headphones and put them in her ears. She searched through the songs and settled on something to listen too. It was rap of course. He'd be damned if that nigger music was going to be played in his truck. Then again, he would have never let a black girl in his tuck, yet there she was, sitting there comfortably next to him. Her tight daisy dukes were cutting in to her thick thighs where the end of the fabric met them. Her dirty white halter-top tied in a knot, exposing her lightly chubby midriff. Her light brown curly hair was catching the sunlight from the window, even though it was grimy. A woman dressed like that was looking for attention. Did she really think that was proper clothing for the world they lived in? Daryl tightened his lips; did she have to play that shit so loud?

"Hey!" he yelled, trying to get her attention, but it was obvious that her music was way too loud to even notice.

"Hey! I'm talking to ya!" he hissed, this time flicking her in the knee. Brandy jumped and yanked out her headphones.

"What?" she snapped.

"Turn that shit down, I don't want to hear none of that ni--" Daryl stopped his sentence, catching himself before he could say the word 'nigger' to the young woman.

Brandy blinked and looked at him with a raised, over-plucked eyebrow.

"Ya don't want to hear any of my what music? What was it?" Brandy egged on.

“None of yer' rap music."

"No, no. You were goin' to say ya did not want to hear none of my nigger music. Word to the wise, if you’re goin' to be racist, than be it, don't back track like a pussy. Fuckin’ bigot," Brandy said defiantly.

"What the fuck did you say to me?" Daryl snapped back, his face growing red with anger.

But Brandy didn’t flinch; she just looked at him with a tiny smile creeping into the corner of her full lips. He had shot her, so she need to call him out on his bullshit.

"Ya heard me, Dixon. "

"Yes, wisdom comin' from a hood-rat,” he cut, before spitting out of the window.

Brandy let out a laugh. Not a chuckle, a full laugh. She touched her chest and ran her thumb over the injury that he had caused, from one of his arrows.

"You can learn somethin' from everyone. Hell I might learn somethin' from you. Redneck," Brandy said, adding the insult to her sentence, almost like a nickname.

"Maybe, Hood-Rat."

The rest of the way they had found something to talk about. That thing being weapons. Daryl was talking in detail about different models of crossbows, and Brandy was showing him her gun with its silencer.

"Ya gotta be pretty strong to pull back on it to load it," Daryl spoke, watching her lift his crossbow to her eye and looked through the scope.

"I don't think you could do it." he taunted.

She snapped her head towards him and narrowed her dark eyes.

"Fuck you, I bet I could," Brandy said. She tried to cock the bow, but she failed.

"Oh come on, Brandy, put that purse down," he teased.

She let out a growl at him and tried again. Fuck! She could not get it.

"Pssh. It's okay. You do have little girl arms."

“Fuck off.”


	3. Southern Comfort is the Best Kind

They had made it to the Center for Disease Control. The building was ominous; the amount of the dead lying around the building was almost too much to take in. Rotting bodies rested in lines or in piles on the barricade. The got out of got out of the truck, and Brandy put her hand over her nose because of the smell. She had smelled the rot before, but in the air around them it was thick. She felt herself gag, but she overcame the feeling to vomit.

Brandy kept her back to the rest of the group, walking backwards, making sure they didn’t get surprised by any Walker’s. Both of her blades pointed outward, ready to strike when and if need be. A military barricade was over run, and flies buzzed, hovering around the rotten bodies.

They got to the doors, but they were covered with locked shutters. In the back of Brandy's mind, she knew someone was in there; if they were still alive was the question. A place like that wouldn’t have been fully abandoned, and someone must have stayed behind.

Rick and Shane tried to get the shutters up, but they could not budge them. The CDC had to have some of the best security on Earth. If not, things would be a lot worse. Who knew what was hiding behind those doors and in the hot labs? She could hear Shane and Rick go back and forth with each other.

She saw a Walker bumbling towards them. She readied her gun, but Daryl got it first. The men were getting into it. No one knew what was going on, and women were yelping with panic. Brandy saw another Walker; she fired off a silenced round, dropping it.

"Fort Benning," Shane urged.

Daryl said something that he did not like, and Shane pushed him and told him to shut up.

"No food no, no fuel it. It's a hundred miles!" Lori said in a frightened voice.

"We'll think of something!" Rick spoke, but Shane wanted them to leave. He was pushing them back towards the cars.

"Back to the cars, lets go!" Shane ordered.

"The camera! The camera moved!" Rick yelled out stopping them, looking up at the camera.

Brandy could hear them all yelling; Lori screamed at Rick telling him that there was no one there. But he still banged on the shutter doors. There was another Walker; this time Glenn got it.

"There’s more of them!" Brandy yelled. "Hurry up!"

She took another shot. It missed, but she took another, and got it. Shane pulled Rick back, but Rick still yelled at the camera.

"You're killing us! You're killing us!"

With a screech through the dusk the shutters, they lifted. Brandy turned around and saw nothing but white light casting into the dark night. She'd be damned; Rick was right.

They all sprinted in, not wasting any time. She looked around. The entrance hall was huge and empty, and their voices echoed off of each wall. They heard the sound of a gun being cocked, and they looked towards a dim hallway, seeing a man standing there with an M-16. He asked if any of them were infected. Rick spoke for the group and answered the man’s the mismatch group, and answered the man's question.

"You'll submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission," the man told them.

Brandy swallowed hard at his words, and uncomfortably shifted her weight from foot to foot. Rick agreed for the group; they grabbed their belongings from the cars, and the doors were sealed behind them. The idea made her nervous, being trapped in a place that had some of the most dangerous diseases known to man. It was even a possibility that they might have been responsible for what happened in the world.

The group made it to a large elevator, all of them squeezing in. Brandy stood in between Glenn and Daryl. Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she listened to the pings and sounds the elevator made. She heard Daryl say something to the doctor about having an M-16, but she was not listening. She just wanted to get out of that death trap.

Walkers were nothing compared to the fear she felt when it came to elevators; they were steel boxes that, with one snap of a cord, could drop them to their deaths. Brandy had hated them her whole life. The phobia seemed trivial now, but it still made her uncomfortable. After that she would have to take a blood test, and the prospect of it terrorized her.

They went down a hall and then to a huge room with computers. Rick asked where everyone else was, and then they all found out that the man that let them in was the last. The idea of a cure was shattered with that news. There was no one working on anything, no one studying it, no one working in labs day in and day out to put the world back together. There was nothing.

 

* * *

 

Brandy took a deep breath as she got up and walked towards the table where the doctor was. It was her turn to submit her blood. She knew it was an obvious precaution, but that didn’t make her dislike it any less. He looked at her; she could tell he was taking in her disfigured side of her face. Jenner made it a point to test the temperature of her skin with the back of his hand.

"What happened?" he asked, preparing the needle. Brandy closed her eyes tightly while he stuck it into the thick blue vein that rested in the bend of her arm.

"An accident-- I got into a fight," she spoke, watching the tube fill with her blood.

"Those scars look a little infected."

"They're not, it’s just the damage left over," she assured.

"Well, in any case, I'll give you give antibiotics just to be safe," Jenner said with a smile, as he finished.

Brandy smiled, and went back to sit down and wait for everyone else to be done.

 

* * *

 

It was the first in a long time that she was sitting down, and eating a real meal, being with people, laughing, drinking and enjoying something. There hadn’t been anything to smile about since it all happened. This was a welcome change.  Brandy tried the wine. It wasn't her thing. She became excited when she saw that Daryl had a bottle of Southern Comfort.

"Hey, give me some of that?" she held up her glass and shook it. Everyone chuckled at the fact that the young woman wanted something hard to drink. Daryl smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"This shit will put you on your ass, little girl."

"Shut up and gimmie me some!"

He sighed, and poured her some, and she mixed it with some cola.

"Look you already ruined it!" Daryl teased, and everyone laughed at her again.

"Come on, drink it straight!" he said, putting the bottle down in front of her. She took him up on it and down a gulp.

Brandy squinted at her eyes at the strong taste and let out a hic. She shook her head, and reached for her mixed drink.

"You’re suppose to put diet in a mixer," T-dog said to her. "If you use normal soda you'll get a hang over, it's all the sugar."

"Pshhh! I have been drinkin' since--" she started, but was cut off by Daryl.

"Since what, high school?"

She rolled her eyes at his words, and everyone else chuckled at her expense. She could not believe how much fun they were all having. Before long, her one drink became two, and two became two and a half. And then someone had to ruin the fun.

"We were supposed to find all of the answers, and instead we found him," Shane said pointing at Jenner.

"Ughh...Shane…shut up," Brandy slurred, but of course he didn’t listen.

"We found one man. Why?" Shane continued.

Brandy didn’t want to hear any of it. She finished third drink, and while the Debbie Downers were talking, she wanted a refill.

"Daryl… Daryl," she whispered, turning around in her chair and pointing at her glass. "I want more."

"How many have ya had?" he whispered, leaning over her and pouring her some more.

"Three."

"Yer goanna' drink it all."

"Naw I ain't," Brandy giggled, looking up at him with a wide smile. He could tell she was going to be slop.

"I'm cuttin' ya off after this."

Brandy let out a little whimper and rolled her eyes. She didn't plan on stopping anytime soon.

"Dude, you are such a buzz kill," Glenn said to Shane.

"Yeah, dude, way to fuck up the fun," Brandy agreed.

 

* * *

 

After the best shower of her life, she threw on a long over-sized shirt that she had packed. At one point, it had belonged one of her old flings. It was his varsity football shirt, bearing the name of her alma mater on the front.

Everything felt so perfect; the only thing that wasn’t was the fact she had to go hunt down that bottle of Southern Comfort. She shuffled down the hallway, going back into the café, but it wasn't there.

"Shit," she uttered, grabbing a glass and the bottle of cola.

She went back down the hallway looking for the bottle, and she had an idea of who had it.

"Hey Carol, do you know where Daryl is?" she asked the woman, who was headed to the showers.

"Um. I think he is in that room down there."

She pointed down the hall. Brandy smiled, heading for his room. Carol nodded and continued on to showers. Brandy knocked on the door and leaned against the threshold.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Brandy," she chuckled.

"What ya' want?"

"I want some of dat' liquor."

She heard him sigh, and the door opened. Brandy smiled and made her way in.

Brandy fully intended to get a glass and leave, but some how she just stayed. She sat on the floor with her legs crossed at the ankles, aware that she only had on a pair of lacy panties on under her large shirt. She was now on her fourth glass, and her head was swimming.

"So, Hood-Rat, where ya from?" Daryl asked, sitting on the couch and looking down at his surprising drinking partner.

"Atlanta. Duh."

She took a big gulp of her drink.

"Yeah no shit, smart ass," Daryl said, grabbing one of the pillows and threw it at her.

"Okay! I'm from Clayton County, and that's all ya need to know. I ain't gonna give ya my life story," Brandy snickered, reaching for her glass again. "What about you? Trailer park?"

Daryl scoffed at her question and shook his head.

"In the middle of fucking no where,” Daryl said, taking a drink from the bottle.

Brandy put her hand on her face when she felt the room start to spin. She was officially wasted.

"What would you have done?" she heard Daryl say through her liquor-induced haze.

"Huh?" she closed her eyes, but that only made the room spin even more.

"If the world hadn't gone to shit," he clarified.

"I was goin' to go to college," Brandy mumbled, looking down at the carpet. "I got in to Morris Brown, I would have been da first one in my family that got in to college.”

"If yer so smart, then why all this hood shit?" Daryl asked looking her up and down.

Brandy looked up at him, and let out chuckle.

"Daryl, you're smart too. Why da dumb Redneck act?"

"I ain't smart, I didn't even go to high school," he huffed.

Brandy shook her head and leaned forward with her glass. Daryl poured her some more, and then took a drink for himself.

"A lot of people in my graduating class were dumb as fuck. I think yer' are smarter then a lot of them. Hell, yer still alive. That shits gotta' count for somethin'," Brandy said with a smile.

Eventually, the Southern Comfort got to Daryl, and he passed out on the couch. He woke up a few hours later from being too hot. He opened his eyes, let out grunt, and pulled off the covers off. The only light in the room was from the tiny amount that was peeking from up under the door from the hallway. 

He heard a sound coming from somewhere in the room. He instinctively reached over for the lamp that was on the table next to him and turned it on. On the floor he saw Brandy, curled in the fetal position, her hand still holding the empty glass. Daryl grunted at the sight of her, and rolled his eyes. He covered her with the blanket. Brandy let out a tiny pleased sigh in her sleep when she felt the warmth.

"Fuckin', Rat," Daryl mumbled, before tuning the light back off and falling back asleep.

  



	4. There's Nothing For Us Here.

Brandy let out a grunt as she rolled over on her back. She felt horrible. The blanket was covering one leg, her over sized tee shirt raised up to the top her thigh, and her freshly washed hair was a mess. She didn’t remember where she was at first, her mind having to take a second to remember the night’s events.

Brandy sniffed, smelling cigarette smoke. She glanced over to her right, and was startled at the sight of Daryl laying on the couch, smoking.

"Ya' passed out," he said, noticing the confused look on her face. "I told ya that shit would put ya on yer ass."

Brandy let out a sigh and rubbed her eyes.

"Sorry… I uh, don't remember fallin' asleep," she said, standing up, the shirt slumping down and exposing her right shoulder. Daryl chuckled at Brandy's slight stumble as she walked to the door.

"Thanks…" she said over her shoulder.

"For what?"

"Lettin' me sleep. I really needed that.”

She smiled before leaving the room.

Brandy made her way down the hall, stumbling the whole way, holding her head and letting out groans at the fat headache that was smashing its way throughout her skull. She got to the room that she had claimed as her own, grabbed the same clothes that she had been wearing yesterday, and slipped them back on. She had not realized how dirty and grimy they were until she put them back on her clean skin. Brandy rummaged through her bag and reached for a bottle of Ibuprofen, and popped three. She made her way down the hallway, fingering out her unbrushed hair.

She entered the café, and saw most of the group eating. She shuffled in with her head down, rubbing her temples.

"Hey little lady," she heard Dale say to her.

Brandy took a seat at the table and started to eat get her breakfast. Eggs, bacon, coffee, there was nothing more that she would have asked for.

Dale said good morning to Jenner as he walked in but soon the conversation turned from morning chatter to something more serious.

"We didn't come here for the eggs," Andrea said to Jenner, and the environment grew tense with her words.

Brandy looked up at the Doctor and saw the worst expression on his face. Once again, someone had to ruin the moment.

 

* * *

 

 

They all followed Jenner into 'the big room,' as he called it. Brandy shuffled in with the rest of the group, taking a sit in one of the chairs around the rows of computers.

"Give me a playback of TS-19," Jenner said to the computer that ran the facility.

The rest of them turned their attention to the large screen that was in front of them.

"Few people ever got a chance to see this."

Brandy stared in awe at the image that was before her. She could hear members of the group ask questions about what they saw.

"What are those lights?" Shane asked.

When Jenner answered, it became clear that they were looking in to someone's brain as they died.

"Who?" Andrea asked.

"Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten, infected and volunteered to have us record the process," Jenner answered, his eyes still on the screen.

Brandy watched with the rest of them. There was blackness creeping into the brain, the pattern looking like a dead tree made of ink. Brandy said nothing while they watched the test subject die. She could not help the feeling of guilt that swept over her as she watched.

"Scan to second event," Jenner told the computer.

He was talking, but she did not listen, just watching the screen as a tiny red light appeared and grew larger in the subject's brain. Rick questioned if the person was alive, but they knew the answer to that already. People could not survive being shot in the chest, but they could. They never got winded, they were running on primitive instincts; the only thing they cared about was feeding. But watching the scan made her even more confused about the Walkers then she had been previously. The subject was moving around, and then there was a flash of light on the screen: a bullet driving itself into the Walker’s brain.

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea asked.

Brandy looked to the doctor, hoping he would give some information, but he had nothing for them. No scientists locked in an underground bunker half the world away trying to figure this out. Brandy put her head in her hands as the listened to the others talk.

"I hate to ask you another question," Dale started to say, "but that clock is counting down to something."

He told them that the basement generators would run out of fuel, but then he walked away.

"What happens when the power runs out?" Rick asked the computer, since Jenner decided to run from the question.

"When the power runs out, system wide decontamination will accrue."

"Oh my God, we are so fucked," Brandy mumbled, her voice cutting the silence that the group had after hearing the words "decontamination."

What did that mean? Would the labs be purged? Or would everything? No one got the chance to ask, because before they could, Jenner just walked away from them with his shoulders slumped in silence.

 

* * *

 

Brandy was in her room, sharpening one of her machetes, sweeping the stone along the top of the blade in a steady motion. When the lights flickered out, Brandy felt her heart jump in to throat. She got up and slipped her blade under her belt, peeking out the door to see what was going on.

"Energy use is being prioritized," Jenner said as he walked down the hall.

 

His face was vacant; no hint of emotion could be seen from him. Brandy had an itching feeling in the back of her mind that yelled to her. She grabbed up her bag just incase. If the CDC ran out of power, there would be no reason to even stay there. The group followed him down the dark hall and into the big room. Everyone was silent, looking around, wondering what he was going to say next. He told them the French were the last to hold out, they had almost found something to end this, but it was too late.

 

Rick ordered them to grab their things, and that they were leaving. Brandy and the rest of them turned to run back down the hall and then an alarm sounded.

 

30:00:00 until shut down.

 

Everyone scrambled to the door, and then a shutter came up, locking them in.

"Open da fucking door!" Brandy screamed, but it did nothing. Jenner didn’t even filch at her request.

Rick ordered him to open the doors, but he refused. Everyone was screaming and yelling, and Sophia and Carl were crying. Jenner sat back down and started to explain what would happen to them, and then the computer took over and defined H.I.T.’s.

They all listed to the disembodied voice that told them a H.I.T. was a two process explosion that would do nothing less than ignite the air. The tiny sound that left Brandy's mouth was a noise that she hadn’t pushed out from her lips since she was a child, a sound of utter terror.

She joined Shane and Daryl in their assault on the door, all three of them armed with axes. It wasn't doing anything, but she kept swing with every ounce of strength her 140-pound body could summon. Brandy had tunnel vision, only knowing that door, the swing of the ax, and what would happen to them if they did not get out.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher," Jenner said, pushing Daryl off of the deep end as he came at him with the ax that was in his hands.

“Yer head ain’t!” he yelled, going to swing at him, but the rest of the guys stopped him. Brandy stopped hitting the door, dropping the ax.

"Who are you to play God with our lives!?" she screamed at Jenner as she ran up on him. "If you don't let us go, you are just as bad as the fuckin' Walkers!"

She drew her hand back, ready to punch him in the face, but just like they did with Daryl, Rick and T-Dog pulled her back before she could land it. She put her head in her hands and uttered words under her breath.

Shane grabbed a shotgun and lost his shit, pointing at Jenner's face. Rounds went off, ripping into the computers, hitting the lights all while Shane screamed. This was definitely not how Brandy Ranee Simmons wanted to spend her last moments on Earth. Along with Daryl, she ran back to the door, picked up the ax again, and started swinging. Rick and the others were trying to reason with Jenner, but she could not hear them over the bangs of the axes on the metal door.

And like a miracle, while she was in mid-swing, the door dropped down and opened. Rick must have had a way with words.

"Come on!" she yelled, waving the rest of them along.

She was already down the hall before she realized that most of them had stopped.

"Fuck! What are ya'll waitin' on!?"

"Just go!" she heard Dale yell.

They all ran up the dark stairs. She almost tripped, but she caught herself. They made their way to the lobby. They tried to get the doors open, but they refused to budge. They kicked and swung at the glass of the large windows, but they didn't even crack. Shane even shot at the glass with his shotgun, but it didn’t even leave a mark.

Out of all people that would help in a situation like this, it was Carol, surprisingly, who pulled a grenade out of her homely purse. Brandy was confused about where that even came from, but she really did not care, she just wanted out of that godforsaken building. Rick readied the explosive, and they all ducked for cover.

The blast was so loud that she felt like she had gone deaf for a moment, but it worked. Making their way out to the lawn, they made short work of a few Walkers that were roaming around the front of the building.

Brandy was sure she had never ran that fast in her life; adrenaline was pumping in side of her like it never had before. She jumped in the truck next to Daryl, and saw Andrea and Dale escape the building also. She felt a forceful tug on her shirt as Daryl pulled her down in to cover, her head heading into his lap as he bend forward. His chest met her ear, and he put his arms around his head to protect himself.

Brandy could hear the explosion, but it was coupled by the sound of Daryl's heart slamming in his chest. It all went so fast, and then it was over. He lifted up and looked around, and then back at his brother's bike, making sure it had not been damaged.

Brandy sat up and saw at orange flames that engulfed the crumpled rumble. No words escaped either of their mouths; Daryl followed the rest of the group’s cars, leaving a place that symbolized for her the old world that was never coming back.


	5. The Worst Kind

They stopped to get fuel, syphoning gas from a few abandoned cars out side of a worn down building that seemed like it had been a mechanics shop at one point in time.

"I'm ditchin' the truck, gonna ride the bike the rest of the way there," Daryl said to her, as they both got out of the truck.

"K, I'll just find someone else to ride with," Brandy nodded, walking away with her hands in the back pockets of her shorts.

"It holds two people, ya know."

She raised her eyebrow and looked at the bike, and shook her head.

"My ass ain't gonna fit on that tiny seat," she laughed. "Thanks but I'll pass."

She wandered around, looking at her surroundings. This was one hick place at some point in time. She came to a closed, unlocked garage. She put her ear to the door, knowing if there were any Walkers in there she would hear hissing and wheezing, but there was nothing. She chewed her bottom lip and looked back over at the group. No was paying attention to her. Just to be safe, she pulled out her silenced gun. Bending down, she grabbed the door by the handle and pulled it open. Not a Walker in sight, but there was a car under a tarp.

"Hum…" Brandy hummed to herself, walking in and pulling the baggie tarp off.

The sight that she saw made her grin. She did not know what kind of make it was, but damn it was beautiful. Classic muscle car, two seater, white with red, bold racing stripes. Brandy walked around it to the drivers seat, and pulled the door handle; it was unlocked.

"Fuck yes."

She looked back over at the group. They still had not noticed. She got in and sat in it for a moment. It was nice. On the dash were the letters AMX. Brandy started to look around, opening the glove box first. Nothing. Then she looked under the floor mats. Nothing, again.

She reached up to the visor and pulled it down, and one square-headed key plopped in to her lap.

"Yes!" she whispered with excitement, putting the key in and hoping it would start.

And it did, with a growl. Brandy let out a squeak as she put it in reverse and started to slowly back out. That got their attention.

"Hey, whoa, look at that," T-Dog said, walking over to her. "Someone put some money it to that."

Brandy beamed with a smile, proud of her new loot.

"Damn that's a sweet ass ride. Too much power for a little girl though," Daryl chimed in, looking in the car and checking out the black leather interior. Brandy sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him.

"Look at that," Dale added, walking over to them. "We could get some good parts off this."

He smiled like he was trying to convince her.

"Ohhhh, no. This is mine." Brandy shook her head, rubbing the wheel.

"I think Daryl's right, it is a lot of power."

"I'm not 10 years old, I'm 18!" Brandy protested.

"Not much difference there," Daryl chucked.

"You know what, fuck you Daryl," she hissed, sounding immature.

"See, why do young ladies today think they have to talk so vulgar?" Dale asked. She rolled her eyes at his grandfatherly tone.

"Okay, wow, y'all are so gay."

"I think Dale's right," Shane added, as he walked towards the drivers seat.

Brandy let out a snorting laugh and rolled her eyes at him.

"Shane yer' no ones father here, so please stop trying to act like it," Brandy said lightly, but unknowingly hit a sore spot with him. He wrinkled his brow and let out a huff.

"Yeah, you’re right," he uttered coldly.

* * *

Brandy was loving her new whip, driving along on the highway, feeling completely free, a cigarette in her mouth and the warm wind blowing through the down window. Every once in a while it would slip her mind, what happened to the world, thinking she was on a road trip with a few friends.

But reality set back in when they hit a roadblock of empty cars. They tried to wave their way through it, but of course nothing could go right. When the motorcade stopped, Brandy knew something was wrong. She flicked her cigarette butt on to the road and went to see what was going on.

"What the hell?" she asked striding up with her hands on hips.

No one needed to answer; she just looked at the steam rising off of the RV.

"God damn it."

The group started to chatter about all of the things they could find there. Brandy agreed and started to rummage around in one of the cars.

"This is a grave yard," Lori said. "I don't know how I feel about this."

"You really don't know what it takes to survive, do you?" Brandy said, holding a backpack that she had pulled from a car.

Lori just looked at her, almost shocked that no one backed her up on this. They all continued to search. Brandy grew excited when she found clothing that was right up her alley: shorts and tank tops, win. She also found a pair of aviator sunglasses. Brandy put them on and looked at herself in left side mirror of a truck. She took one vain moment to fluff her hair and check out her reflection. She turned around and saw Lori shoot Carol a dirty look for picking out a shirt that she liked.

"Red's your color," Brandy said, with thumbs up to the shy woman.

She went back to rummaging in a green truck when she thought she heard something: the hissing and wheezing that automatically put everyone still alive in the world on alert. She dropped down as quickly as she could and hid under the truck. It was a whole cluster of them, bumbling around and tripping over themselves. She had never seen them move as a group that large before. For a few tense moments they moved over them like the plague, and it seemed that everything was fine.

Brandy went to breathe a sigh of relief, but then she heard screaming. It had to have been little Sophia. Brandy scrambled from up under the truck and looked around; two Walkers were after the child. She had run in to the woods, and Rick went after her.

* * *

Rick hadn't came back with Sophia. Glenn, Shane and Daryl had joined in looking for the little girl. Eventually, Shane and Glenn made their way back, assuring the group that Rick and Daryl were still looking, and would find her by nightfall.

"Brandy, where do you think your going?" Shane asked her as she walked towards the guardrails.

Brandy smacked on a piece of gum that she had in her mouth, and looked over at him.

"Where ya think? I'm gonna go out and look fo' Sophia," Brandy said, resting her hand on the handle of one of her machetes that was holstered under her tan belt.

"No," Shane stated. "This is different than telling you about that car, you can't go out there alone."

"So we're are just goin' to stand around while there a little girl out in the woods? Are you serious?" she argued.

"Look now, Rick and Daryl are on it," he tried to reassure her.

"They're just two men, she could be anywhere," Brandy pleaded, but Shane shook his head at her.

"Listen, we need you here. Running out in the to the woods won't help. You can't help Sophia if you get killed."

Brandy shrugged off his words and rolled her eyes. She felt as if she was being babied, her youth being a convenient excuse to keep her back from helping and doing what she was good at.

"Ya don't have any idea what it's like out there alone," Brandy hissed, sucking her teeth.

"We are all worried about Sophia. Now we need to look for more supplies. Why don't you go and help Andrea out."

Brandy smacked her gum, rolled eyes and walked away from him. She made her way over to Andrea, who was going through a van.

"Sup," Brandy said, reaching in the trunk of the van and pulling out a knapsack.

"Hey," Andrea sighed.

"Everyone here wants to be someone's parent. I don't know about you, but my daddy is dead and I'm pretty sure my mama is too. I don't need any replacements," mumbled Brandy as she pulled a few bottles of water out of the pack.

"Shit, I know how that feels," Andrea agreed, looking up towards the RV.

"For the record Andrea, that was your call, and for Dale to guilt you into living was straight bullshit."

"Thanks, I'm glad at least one person here doesn't think I'm crazy."

"Fuck um' some members of the group is a bunch of moral humpers. Well, except, T-Dog, Glenn, and Daryl."

Andrea snickered at Brandy's words.

"What about Lori?"

"Shit, she's da worst one," Brandy said, looking over to Lori. "Standin there, with her arms folded not doin' nothing. She thinks she boss lady. Tricks like that cause problems."

Andrea busted out laughing.

 

* * *

Daryl and Rick didn't find Sophia, and now it was the next day. All of them gathered around for a "weapons talk”. Carl had found a load of kill devices, and Rick told them all take one.

"Nah, I'll pass. I got all the shit I need," Brandy said, holding her hand up.

"These aren't the kind of weapons we need," Andrea piped up, putting her hand on her hip. "Where are the guns?"

"We've been over that. Dale, Rick and I are carrying. Can't have people popping off rounds every time the tree rustles," Shane said. It sounded like he was patronizing her.

"Bullshit, Brandy has a gun!" Andrea raised her voice pointing over at her.

"Now, Brandy's gun is silenced," Rick tried to say.

"I told them that if I stayed here then I kept my weapons…all of them," Brandy said with crossed arms as she leaned against the RV.

"Say someone fires at the wrong moment, and a herd happens to be passing by. Then it's game over for all of us. You need to get over it," Shane spoke.

"You ain't got no right to hold her weapon," Brandy chimed in with her normal attitude. "And you know that ain't the reason, stop bullshitting." She folded her arms and popped her gum.

"This is not a debate," Shane snapped at the young woman. Brandy could not help but snicker at him, just to push his buttons.

Daryl started to explain their plan to find Sophia. The whole time, Brandy popped her gum. Pop, pop, pop. Shane shot her a dirty look, but Brandy kept popping it, thinking the whole time, please, please, please say something, please. I want you to.

But he didn't, and she was a little disappointed that her childish prodding didn't pay off.

* * *

They had been out there for what seemed like hours, and they were no closer to finding the girl. They had come to a tent, but Sophia wasn't in there, just some dude who 'opted out.' Church bells rang out, and they followed the sound, thinking that maybe Sophia had heard them as well, and been in the area, but it was a pipe dream; the church bells were false and on a timer. Brandy thought for sure that she would have been there. It would have been something beautiful for their search to pay off, leading them to find her, scared, yet not broken, in a church.  

Shane, Rick, and Carl went off to search the area some more, just in case. Lori letting Carl go was one of the stupidest things Brandy had ever seen. Obviously, Lori didn't understand how dangerous the world was now. She acted as if she was on some adventure vacation. If Carl had been Brandy's little brother, there is no way she would allow him to even come on the search, let alone let him out of her sight.

The rest of them pressed on after a while, before they stopped to rest. Brandy could hear a few of the group chattering, but she was not paying any mind, looking around making sure there weren't any Walkers in the area. She snapped back to the conversation when she heard Lori talk down to and get an attitude with poor Carol. She was going on and on about how Carol needed to stop blaming Rick, how he went after Sophia and no one else did, how they looked to him but got upset when he was not perfect. The rest of what she had said going out of the window, Brandy focusing on what Lori dared to say to Carol. Brandy put her hands on her hips and proceeded to snap.

"Wait, hold on," Brandy said, clapping her hands in classic 'hood-rat' style. "Ya think yer' fucking boss lady? Ya think you the queen bee?"

Lori was shocked by Brandy's words.

"Excuse me?" Lori asked, looking at her.

"Ya heard me. I think what I said was pretty fuckin' clear. How dare you tell her to forgive Rick? She has every right to be livid with him. If the shoe was on the other foot, if someone else left your child in the woods you would feel the same."

Brandy shook her head.

"Ya don't really understand what it is out here, ya don't get it because you had the fuckin' luxury of been protected by men, Shane and Rick."

The group went silent watching the heated exchange between them.  "There is a lil' girl out there and you have da balls to tell her mama how to feel? Fuck you."

Lori got up and faced her.

"Who do you think you are?" Lori asked, getting in her face.

"I'm da one that knows what it's like to be out here alone." Brandy narrowed her eyes.

"There are people in the world today that are ten times worse than Walkers. The worst kind of people. If you get my fuckin' point. So don't you dare tell her how to feel," Brandy hissed, grabbing the straps of her backpack and walking a head.

She surprised the group with her temper, and some of the things she said. Up until then, she had a bit of a mouth, but was relatively quiet.

She walked next Daryl, and he found himself looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Her brow wrinkled and lips tight, she was obviously bothered by something.

* * *

A half hour later, they heard a gunshot rip through the trees. They all stopped and looked around. No one could pinpoint the direction of the noise. Most of them shrugged it off, but of course Lori didn't, thinking it was Rick or Shane, saying Rick and Shane would not drop a Walker with a gun and that something was wrong. Brandy scoffed and rolled her eyes at Lori.

They still kept walking. Brandy was sure they had been out there for at least five hours in the hot and humid heat, and they were still a hundred yards out from the highway. Brandy panted and tried to fan herself off with her hand.

Suddenly, they heard Andrea frantically screaming. She had wandered off from the rest of the group. Brandy pulled her second machete out of her belt and ran towards the shrieks. They all got to her, but by the time they realized what was happening, a woman with short brown hair on a horse smashed the Walker that was trying to attack Andrea head in with a Louisville slugger.

"Lori? Lori Grimes?!" the horse rider asked, looking around at them.

Brandy looked back at Lori, who answered the woman.

"I'm Lori," she said, looking confused.

"Rick sent me. You gotta come now, there's been an accident…Carl's been shot."

As soon as the words left the woman's mouth, Brandy felt her gut drop. She felt horrible for what she had said to Lori.

"What if the shoe was on the other foot?"

Lori left with the woman, who gave them directions to where she had came from. Brandy sighed and rubbed her forehead. Now there were two children to worry about.

* * *

They talked about leaving the highway to get to Rick and the others, but the decided to stay another night, just in case little Sophia found her way back.

That night Brandy slept in her new car, curled up in the fetal position. It was surprisingly comfortable, but it was ruined by nightmares of her family, friends, and lastly the little girl in the rainbow shirt, holding her doll. She could not imagine what it was like to be out there all alone, and still being a baby.

**  
**


	6. Farm at the Edge of the World

Where the rest of the group was wasn't that far- maybe a mile away from the highway. Brandy looked out of the driver's side window at the farm. It was untouched, serene; she could not believe that there were still places like that left.

They pulled in and the others greeted them, but the mood was heavy, of course. Brandy looked at Lori, wishing her eyes could speak the words.

I'm sorry.

She felt horrible about what she had said to her the other day, another testament of her attitude and her hurtful words coming back to burn her. They all breathed a sigh of relief when they found out that the little boy would be all right, easing Brandy's guilty mind only slightly.

* * *

The Group all gathered around for a memorial service for a man named Otis, who apparently died while trying to go get the medical supplies needed to save Carl's young life. An uplifting tale in a world full of darkness, but there were holes in that story that Shane told. Brandy did not trust that man... something about him. She could not put her finger on it. He seemed off, slightly unhinged, in a way.

The farm wasn't so bad, although Brandy wished with everything at The CDC would have worked out. That place was like a fantasy, with food, water, warm beds, underground and sheltered for everything the world was now. She wanted to settle down there, grow old there, but she would have to take second best. She sat in the grass away from camp, sharpening her blades, breathing in the setting sunlight, enjoying the smell of the long grass and the sound of the crickets chirping with their summer song.

She heard footsteps behind her and looked over her shoulder to see Daryl. Brandy smiled slightly and turned back around going back to her blades.

"Yer' shaping it wrong," he said taking a seat next to her on the ground.

"Naw I ain't," she uttered, slipping the stone over the blade while she held on to the machete, holding it outward.

"Gimmie that," Daryl ordered. "I'll show ya how it's done."

Brandy handed over her weapon and the grinding stone. He put the stone on the ground in front of him.

"Ya' got any water?" he asked.

Brandy shook her head.

"That's yer' first problem, ya gonna fuck up yer' blade," he said, spitting on her grinding stone. Brandy let out an agitated noise at his actions.

"Okay, ew."

Daryl ignored her and started sharpening the blade, doing one side and then the other.

"Here, feel that edge," he said, handing the weapon back to her.

He was right, it was sharp. She still wished that spit didn't have to be involved. Daryl stared at her for a moment.

"Ya said ya had met the worst kind of people out there," Daryl started to say.

Brandy shook her head and looked away.

"Ya, I guess,"

She looked down at the grass and cracked her knuckles on her lap.

"The kind that lure young women to them, with food and shelter, and try to take advantage. Those kind…"

Daryl stared at her with what he knew was misplaced shock. He knew that sort of thing must have been common.

"He tried, but…"

"What happen?" he could not help but ask.

"What do ya think? The nasty fat bastard tried to fuck me, even though I screamed no."

Brandy looked down and yanked up a few pieces of grass.

"Gah, just the thought of him makes me want to puke."

She shuddered.

"I kicked him in the nuts and made sure he would never do that ever again to any other girl."

"…You killed em?"

"I didn't mean to."

Brandy paused and glanced up towards the tree line. "There was a hammer on a table next to me and I just wanted to knock him out but…"

Brandy stopped and wrinkled her brow.

"Ya don't understand," she confessed.

One hit became two, and two became three, on and on. The hurt, the sorrow coming out with every swing. Brandy remembered screaming and crying as the hammer cracked his skull. Daryl laid down in the grass with his hands under his head, looking up at the sky blue cloudless sky.

"Ya did the right thing."

"Ya think?" she asked.

"Yeah, he didn't give ya a choice. Ya worried about it happening' to Sophia, huh?"

Brandy nodded and sighed.

"Yeah…I'm an adult and it was scary for me."

"Adult my ass," Daryl said, with a small snicker.

Brandy scoffed, the mood between them getting too heavy. She ripped up a fist full of the green grass.

"Fuck you, Redneck," she laughed, throwing the grass on his face before she got up.

"Hey!" Daryl yelled at her.

Brandy flicked him off while walking away. He looked at her with small smile; that girl had the ability to surprise him everyday.

"Fuckin' rat."

* * *

The next day they were all ready to go look for Sophia. Brandy wasn't given direct orders on what do, so she figured she would slip away and go alone, planning to check around the highway just in case the little one had made her way back there. Putting on her aviator sunglasses, she headed towards the woods.

Brandy stopped when she saw Daryl making his way over to the stables.

"Hey," she called out, jogging towards him. "Can I come with ya?"

Daryl chucked at her question.

"No, I'm better on my own. Besides, already worried about a one little girl, I don't need to worry about another."

Brandy rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth.

"I really appreciate the concern, but I was gonna go out on my own anyway," she told him, while smacking a piece of bubble gum.

"Naw the fuck ya ain't," Daryl said harshly to her.

Brandy blinked, a little taken aback.

"I'm goin' out there. I have been on my own since this shit started! I can take care of myself."

"Well, maybe ya got lucky. It only takes one bite to kill you."

"You don't understand, I'm a-" Brandy argued, but Daryl cut her off by stepping closer to her, now only inches from her face.

"You heard what I said," he uttered, his tone serious. Brandy was surprised at how parental he was being.

"What, you wanna physically stop me?" she asked putting her hand on her hips.

"Ya wanna try me?" he said.

Brandy lowered her brow and bit her lip. She always got her way, but she knew for a fact that Daryl was serious. She huffed and rolled her eyes.

Daryl turned around and walked away from her.

"Why don't ya do sumin' useful, like my laundry," he teased, looking back at her.

Brandy could not believe the nerve of him.

"Betta' yet, have a sandwich ready for me when I get back," he said with a smile. Brandy tightened her lip at his words.

"Asshole!" Brandy yelled, but he ignored her.

* * *

It was getting kind of late, and everyone else was back at camp, except Daryl.

Brandy wasn't worried yet since they still had another hour or so of sunlight left. She sat in a folding chair in front of the RV, smoking a cigarette, throwing her head back and blowing smoke rings. Carol had asked her if she wanted to help make the special dinner they were cooking for the Greene's, but Brandy had to decline, not wanting to do the 'chick' work, as she referred to it in her mind. It was bad enough she was not allowed to go look for Sophia. She didn't want to get it in peoples head's that she was a delicate lady, filling old, dead gender roles. She knew that when people in the group looked at her, they didn't see a capable woman; they only saw her as the second youngest in camp, someone that needed protecting. Through no fault of her own, she was hardened to the world, capable of survival and being a protector of her own.

Nothing was going on, the camp was calm, until there was something off in the distance. Brandy sat up and squinted her eyes.

"Walker!" Andrea yelled from up top the RV.

Brandy picked up her machetes, ready to run out there, but she heard Rick try to keep her back.

"Brandy, wait, we got it," he said.

She let out a small growl from under hear teeth.

"Stop tryin' to act like my fucking parents," she cussed, making a run towards it.

She heard Shane yell after her, but she didn't stop. The rest of the men were right behind her. She got to it and stopped, both blades pointed out, ready to chop.

Brandy stared at him with wide eyes. Was he bit or turned? He was covered in so much blood dirt she couldn't tell.

"D-Daryl?" she panted softly. "Oh my God, please say somethin'."

Rick and the others came up behind her. Rick had his gun drawn and was aiming it at Daryl's head.

"Wait!" she urged, glancing at Rick and then back to Daryl.

"That's the third time ya pointed that thing at my head," Daryl said.

Brandy let out a sigh of relief when she heard him speak.

"You gonna pull the trigger or what?"

A split second after, a gunshot went off behind them, and Daryl fell to the ground. Brandy let out a scream as she dropped on her knees next to him.

"Daryl!" she yelped grabbing for him, instinctively touching his head to see if the wound was fatal.

It wasn't. She wiped her hand off on her shorts. He moved, reaching up to feel the injury, and passed out. Brandy got up and shuffled out of the way so Rick and Shane could help him up.

"Oh my god, is he dead?" Andrea yelled, running over with Dale.

To add more to the already ridicules and stressful situation, T-Dog held up a doll that Daryl had bought back.

"Guys, isn't this Sophia's?"

Brandy paused before knocking on the door of the room Daryl was in.

"What?" she heard from the other side, and she peeked in, with a smile.

He quickly grabbed the bed sheet and covered his chest up with it at the sight of her. It was a very bashful action, and she could not help but chuckle at it.

"Calm down, it's only yer chest," she smiled. "Well, I brought ya a fuckin' sandwich."

She put the plate on the nightstand. Daryl laughed at her.

"You really made me a sandwich?" he asked, snatching the plate off of the nightstand.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I was gonna say 'I told you so,' but that would not be the nice thang' to do to a guy that had been impaled by his own arrow and then shot in the head."

Daryl looked at her, his eye noticing red streaks on her gray shorts, trilling off on to her thick thigh.

"Ya got blood on ya," he said.

Brandy looked down and nodded.

"Yeah, it's yers," she uttered, putting her hands in her pockets. "Well, I'll leave ya alone."

Brandy reached for the door.

"Oh, and I did yer laundry. Well, Carol helped because I didn't know how to do it. You're welcome, Dixon," she said, turning and leaving the room.

Daryl sat there, eating his sandwich that she had made him.

I see you're gettin' comfortable with a little piece of coon cunt, eh?

He thought back to what his brother's phantom had said to him today. The words bothering him for some reason. Maybe because she did make him one hell of a sandwich.


	7. No Peaches Ever Again.

"You want a peach?" Glenn asked her, while holding out a basket full of them.

"Sure," Brandy said, grabbing two out. "Wait, is that jerky? I'll take sum' of dat' as well." She smiled, grabbing a few thick pieces. She glanced up at Glenn; he didn't look right, as if something was worrying him.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he uttered, walking away. Brandy shrugged and made her way to one of the tents. She peeked in and saw Daryl lying down, flipping through a book.

"You wanna peach?" Brandy asked, raising her eyebrow, knowing her tone of voice could have been taken a very different way. Daryl lowered the book and eyed her.

"Yeah, sure," he said, radiating the suggestive tone right back to her. She smirked and tossed the fruit at him.

"I shoulda' gotten shot sooner," he smiled. Brandy put her hand on her hips and tilted her head.

"And why's dat?"

"You women are doin' everything for me now," Daryl laughed. Brandy chucked at his words.

"Psssh, please."

"You brought me lunch, Carol brought me dinner, and Andrea was just here-"

"She was just apologizing for shooting ya." She crossed her arms and shook her head.

"Now you again," he smiled, then took a bite of the ripe peach. Brandy let out a laugh and put her hands in her pockets and nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Don't get ahead of yo self. You ain't that cute," she teased, before leaving his tent.

Daryl shook his head as she watched the young woman walk away.

* * *

There was nothing much going on in the afternoon. The sun was high, blue skies and no cloud cover. Brandy lay on the hood of her car, facing camp, bathing in the warm light until someone needed her. She heard distend yelling that caused her to sit up on her elbows, her sunglasses slipping down the bridge of her nose slightly.

"Hey, we got your stuff!" Maggie yelled, stomping over to Lori, who was folding some of the clothing. "We got a special delivery right here. We got your lotion, your special conditioner, your soap opera digest. Next time you want something get it your damn self, were not you errand boys. Here's your abortion pills, too!" Brandy's eye widened when she heard those last words.

"Oh fuck." she uttered. Maggie stormed, off pushing past Glenn. Brandy slipped off of her car and walked over. She didn't really like Lori much, pegging her as bitchy and bossy, but she felt bad that Maggie had just called her out like that. Brandy peeked into the tent where Lori went to hide from the embarrassment.

"Hey," she said. Lori looked up and wiped her face of tears.

"Heard all da' commotion."

"Yeah of course you did," Lori said sadly.

"Well, no one else was around..." Brandy sighed and stepped further in.

"Ya' don't know who the father is, do ya?" Brandy asked. Lori looked at her, shocked that she even knew about Shane.

"I pick up on things like that, I been with more than a few boys… I can tell when there's tension."

"What should I do?" Lori asked with a sob. Brandy sighed and walked over to her.

"Oh god, Lori." She took a seat next to her. "No one can tell you what to do." Lori sniffled and looked down.

"That there baby could be the death of us, a Walker alarm." Lori started sobbing.

Brandy huffed and put her hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "But what if women just stopped having babies? We would just die out and then what would be da' point of tryin' to survive and shit?" Lori looked up at her and Brandy smiled slightly.

"I might be a huge bitch sometimes…. okay, most times." Lori chuckled and wiped the tears from her eyes again.

"But when it comes to thangs like dis I don't judge," Brandy whispered before getting up and leaving the tent, thinking to herself what she would do if she were Lori.

* * *

The next they all sat outside eating breakfast. Brandy sat on a stump eating her breakfast that Carol had made all of them: real fresh farm eggs and bacon. She savored it. It could have used a tad bit more salt, but it was good. Glenn stood as if he had some type of announcement, but Brandy was too focused on her food to even care.

"Uh, guys…" he started, and they all glanced up at him.

"So…" he mumbled, "the barn is full of Walkers." All of them stopped and stared.

"Are you kidding?" Brandy uttered. There was alway a catch to all went over to the barn to see for themselves, hoping that maybe Glenn had been mistaken, but there it was, the unmistakable sound of the gargles coming from behind the wooden walls of the barn. Shane was ready to leave, pushing the idea of Fort Benning on them, again.

"My daughter is still out there," Carol said, looking worried.

"I think it's time to consider the other possibilities," Shane stated, trying to sound like he cared, but no one was buying it from him

"We're close to finding this girl, I just found her damn doll the other day," Daryl said stepping forward. He honestly cared about finding her.

"You found a doll, Daryl, that's what you did, you found a doll!" Shane yelled back. This was becoming a mess, a power trip between Shane and everyone else. Brandy put her head in her hands.

"Ay man let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there, and saw you comin' all methed out with you buck knife, geek ears round your neck, she would run in the other direction!" Shane yelled.

"Man, fuck you!" Brandy said in Daryl's defense ,as he stepped toward Shane, ready to swing on him.

Everyone else stepped in to stop both of them from coming to blows. But Brandy didn't, she hoped Daryl would bet Shane's ass, but Rick stopped them. That didn't stop Shane from yelling and screaming about how he wanted to clear the barn. Everyone shut up only after the door bucked from the Walkers trying to get out.

* * *

Brandy walked around the property in the midday heat. She had no idea what the group was going to do about the Walkers that were hidden away in the barn.

 _Damn it_ , she thought, this is why I liked being alone.

She wouldn't have to worry about the messy group politics. When she was alone, things were so much simpler. She came and went as she pleased, moving from place to place with no one to answer to. The price was her loneliness, but she was alone. She couldn't have it both ways, and being with a group had its cons for sure, but the benefits outweighed them. Brandy glanced up seeing Carol storming away from the stables in tears about something.

"Hey! What's wrong?" Brandy called after her.

Carol wiped her eyes and sniffled. Her face was beet red; she didn't look at up at Brandy, only shaking her head quickly.

"It's nothing…" she mumbled.

"Bullshit, tell me."

Brandy felt for this woman. She could not imagine what it would be like to lose a child out there.

"Daryl…" she stated to say. "He called me a bitch… I just tried to talk him out of going to look for Sophia since he's still injured." The older woman sniffled. Brandy thought it odd that being called out of her name could cause her to be hurt so much, but she was under a lot of stress about her child and where she might be, or even if she was alive.

"Aw, he's just bein' an ass hole," Brandy said, trying to cheer Carol up.

"Please don't say anything, I just…" Carol begged, but Brandy shook her head.

"I ain't gonna let him talk to you like that, not after all the shit you have been through." She found him tending to his arrows away from camp, gritting his teeth like someone had done something to him.

"Hey!" she yelled, storming up to him, but he ignored her. She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, blocking his sunlight.

"I'm talkin' to ya!" she huffed, and snapped her fingers in his face. He jumped up and faced her, arrow still in hand.

"What the fuck do ya want?" he yelled in her face, Brandy felt the urge to back away, but she stood her ground, refusing to back away from him at all.

"How dare ya call Carol a bitch? That woman is suffering right now! She's in tears over that! She don't need anymore fuckin' pain!" Daryl let out an almost growl behind his gritted teeth, narrowing his baby blue eyes at the young woman who would not back down.

"I ain't afraid of ya Daryl," she said, looking down at the arrow that was still clenched in his fist. "Does that make ya mad?" Daryl huffed and clenched his jaw.

"What do ya want?" he asked, stepping closer to her. Brandy swallowed hard but refused to back away. He was rather intimidating, she would admit, but she still didn't retreat, staring him down.

"I just want ya to apologize to her. That's all," Brandy whispered. She had never noticed how he had hits of grey in his eyes. He lowered his brow slightly and backed away from her.

"She don't think we gonna to find her," Daryl sighed, Brandy lowered her head at his words. He really cared about that girl. He wanted to find her so bad. Brandy could see it all in his face. He almost died trying to find her, and to hear from Carol that she was losing faith crushed him.

"I don't know if Sophia is out there…but if she is… I know you will be the one to find her. Just apologize to her mama, please...she cares for you." Daryl narrowed his eyes, watching her walk away.

* * *

Brandy whistled as she made her way over to the house when she saw that everyone had congregated there.

"Have you seen Rick?" Andrea asked her.

"Uh naw, I haven't see him fo a while," Brandy shrugged. She saw Shane walked up towards them, and that look on his face spoke volumes. He had the whole bag of guns over his shoulder, and he started handing them off.

"You with me man?" Daryl took the gun and nodded.

"Time to grow up," Shane said, reaching in the bag and handing over Brandy's gun. She took it from him nervously and took the safety off. He handed the rest of them out to the others.

"It was one thing standing around here pickin' daisy's when we thought this place was supposed to be safe. But now we know it ain't." Brandy never agreed with Shane, but she got behind on this. She made sure her gun was loaded and readied it. Maggie wanted Shane to stop, but she couldn't do anything about it. The adrenaline was already rolling in waves. It was too late, this was happening.

"This is not your decision to make!" Lori yelled, getting in Shane's face.

"Oh shit!" T-dog spoke, grabbing everyone's attention to Rick and Herschel coming out of the woods, leading two walkers with the collar sticks, like they were dog catchers grabbing up some strays.

"What the fucking hell?" Brandy asked. They all started running towards them, Shane kicked open the gate, madder than hell.

"What the hell are you doin!?" he yelled. It was obvious that Herschel was delusional about everything that was happening. He really did think they were alive. They went back and forth for a few moments, Shane yelling like he was preaching to the church. Brandy lifted her gun, aiming it, ready to fire whenever she was told

"Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?!" Shane asked, shooting one of the Walkers at the end of the catcher poles in the chest, and of course it kept hissing, and moving. Shane shot it again, and again.

"Shane, enough!" Rick yelled.

"Yer' right, that is enough," he said, shooting it in the head, dropping it.

"Enough looking for a little girl that's gone! Enough living next to a barn full of things that want to kill us! Rick, it ain't like it was before! If y'all want to live, if y'all want to survive, you gotta fight for it, right here, right now!" Shane yelled, breaking open the lock to the barn and pulling back. The Walkers poured out and the group gunned them down one by one. And then there was silence. It felt like everyone was holding their breath, waiting, but there was nothing to say. All of them unsure if that was it. Brandy and the rest of them lowered their weapons, still looking at the barn. After a moment there was another wheeze that came from the inside. She lifted her gun again, but lowered it just as fast when she saw whose Walker it was.

Little shoes, on little legs, a blue tattered shirt with a rainbow on the front of it, and the face of the little girl they had been trying so desperately to find. None of them could believe it. They had been all hoping and praying all this time, and she was dead in the barn next to them. All of them just stood there looking at her as she stumbled out towards them. Brandy felt her eyes well with tears as they fell down her face. Carol tried to run towards her baby, but Daryl grabbed her and cradled her in his arms, her cries the only sound as they all were frozen in shock.

Rick walked towards the girl with his gun at her head, and ended it…


	8. Berry Bush and Secrets Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Brandy's back-story is revealed and the origin of her face disfigurement is explained. Okay, I beg you to read the whole chapter and the note at the end. I promise I have in show evidence that had the ability to make this theory kind of possible. Please let me know what you think.

Brandy was speechless at what had just happened, she was still in a state of disbelief trying to understand it all. She wanted to go and see if Carol was all right but she couldn't find it in herself to move away from the barn. She looked down the girls little body. It didn't make any sense, how did she get in the barn? Out of all of the places in the world she would be, she had to be right next to them the whole time.  She had hoped that Sophia was like her; she hoped that she would have been stronger. She hoped that Daryl would have found her, she would have been worn out and hungry but no worse for wear, but even angels die and death was indiscriminate.

After the memorial service Brandy walked around the farm, wanting to lost. There was guilt and a suffering pain that reminded her of the people she lost...

She heard a scraping noise and looked around to see Daryl whittling a stick while he sat on stump. He was clinching his jaw, his brows lowered. Brandy wasn't going to say anything to him she wanted to walk past and continue her aimless drifting around the property, but Daryl's gruff voice stopped her before she could take another step.

"I almost died trying’ to find her." he uttered. Brandy closed her eyes and she let out a sigh.

"I…know." she said dropping her shoulders in sadness. "It meant so much to, ya. Finding her and all... It meant a lot to me too." Brandy said running her fingers through her dirty hair. Daryl noticed a plastic pink and blue star bracelet that she had on right wrist. Brandy realized what he was looking at, she pulled the bracelet off and looked at the cheap beads on an elastic string. "I found it, in one of dem’ cars on the road after she had ran off. I was so sure you and Rick would find her and when ya did I wanted to give it to her. Little girls like dis’ kind of shit. But I ain't the chance, so now…I'll wear it." she said slipping back on. "I'll wear it for the little girl who made this…and I'll wear it for Sophia." Brandy uttered with a sad smile.

"I had no ider’ yer were so sentimental…" Daryl shook his head and stood up grabbing his cross bow.

"Where you goin'? "

“I'm gonna go hunt somethang’”

"Ya don't want to go alone, not after all that has happened to today." Brandy sniffled playing with her fingers. "Let me come with." Daryl shrugged and nodded, Brandy smiled and followed him.

* * *

 He had caught a few squirrels but Brandy was not really interested in killing small animals, instead gathering editable berries. He walked a head of her, tracking a pair of deer prints. Brandy bent down and plucked a few red berries off of a low bush, eating one making sure they were ripe.

Daryl turned around to see where she was, his gut churned when he saw a Walker bumbling about fifteen feet behind her. He raised his bow knowing he could drop it from here. It turned around and it must have seen Brandy in front of it but it didn't make any move to attack her. Not one. Daryl lowered his bow and just stared past her confused at what he was even seeing. She looked up with a smile but it quickly melted from her face when she realized hasn't looking at her but behind her. She stood up with machete in hand and turned around and walked up to  over to the walker. With one clean swing she dug the blade it to its head and with a gargle it feel to the ground with a thud. She stared down at it, watching it's inky blood seep from the wound. She turned around to see Daryl storming over to her, she shook her head franticly and she backed in to a tree and he had her pinned. He grabbed her by her face tightly and forced her to look at him.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed ordering an explanation from her. Brandy went to yank out away from his grasp but he wouldn't allow her to. "What in da hell are you?" his eyes looking at the scars down the right side of her face and her one mostly blind discolored eye. Brandy took a deep breath and looked down.

"I got bit...." That was the first time those words had left her mouth ever, since this all started. "But I--I didn't turn."

* * *

  ** _11:33 am. Saturday. Months ago._**

_Brandy got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. Leaving the small bathroom and walking across the hall to her bedroom, she started to get dressed, putting on a pair of panties and a bra. She jumped when she heard her dad screaming and the sound of crashing glass. She ran out of her room and looked down stairs to see what was going on. There were two men, hissing, gargling, and biting at her father as he tried to fight them. Jamal the oldest of the three children, ran in grabbing one of the men and trying to pull him off of his dad. The man turned a bit him on the arm._

_Brandy wanted to scream but the sound of her 14 year old brother crying stopped her. Chris screamed as one of the men grabbed him and bit down on his hand. Brandy felt her heart fall in to her gut and fight or flight over came her. She ran back in to her room locking the door and pulling open her window. She looked down; it wasn't that far down she could escape without any injures it if she landed right. She heard something at her door, and all caution went out as she jumped down, landing on the roof of her brother's truck that had been parked there. She took no time to survey her neighborhood, getting down and running. Going as fast as her naked feet would take her. Something reached out and grabbed her, clawing her face and biting down on her shoulder blade. Brandy pulled away and pushed it off of her. Blood running from the scratches and getting in her right eye, she tried to wipe it off but it only seeped in more._

_She ran down a dirty ally, there was a ladder that led to the roof the liquor store, she climbed up it. Out of breathe, and injured, Brandy collapsed on the hot tar roof._

_She came to, her face lying in a pile of vomit, she managed to roll herself over on to her back. It was early morning the next day. The dawn sky above her, but there was no sounds of the city only roaring silence. She was burning up but had the chills also. She wanted to stay awake but she could not, falling back out in to darkness._

_Hours later Brandy opened her eyes again, but this time the vision in her right eye had decreased it looked like there was film over it, mucky and cloudy. She was lying in a puddle of her one sweat and was painfully dehydrated. She put her head other forehead and the fever had gone. She sat up and made her way back over to the ladder, she looking down to see if any of those things were around, it was clear. She climbed down and almost fell a few times. There was a cheap clothing store down the street, the side door unlocked so she went in and got what she needed and got dressed. There was a mirror on the wall and she caught a glance of her reflection in the mirror. The scars were black, crushed over with blood. Her eye white and cloudy like she cataract. Her vanity was the least of her worries she needed to get back home._

_Brandy left the store and wandered back to her house, through a busted back window. There was blood everywhere. She heard wheezing down the hall. Her father was standing there staggering. It was clear that he was no one of those things.  She thought he would attack her but he just looked at her as if for a split second remembering her face and then he looked away._

_"Daddy?" she called but there was nothing but garble as he continued to ignore her. He father was dead, those things where dead she watched attack her family. And whatever horror it was brought them back in to the thing she saw in front of her._

_She backed away and made her way to the front of the house. Jamal was not there, he must had turned in to one of those things and left the house._

_"Chris…" she called out for her little brother but there was no answer she went up stairs in to his room but he was not there either. She looked on his walls at all of the weapons he collected; she grabbed two machetes and went to search the rest of the house. She came to the bathroom, the door was shut, she pulled it open to find her little brother's body propped against the bathtub. There was blood on the walls on the floor, he had bleed out from a wound on his neck, but he wasn't one of those things he didn't turn like their daddy had. Brandy stood there for a moment,  she had been detached and in shock when she saw her father down stairs not her fight or flight not allowing her to have a normal human reaction but when she saw her baby brother, she lost it. "Chris..." she uttered walking over to him. "No.. oh God no!" she grabbed him up, feeling him limp and cold in her arms. "Not you! No no no..." she begged but there was nothing, she was dead, her whole family was dead and all she could do was sob in anguish, in some ways wishing she was right along with them. She cried till she physically could not cry anymore, her body refusing to spare the fluid on tears.  She laid him back down, and in a daze she left the bath room after what must have hours of sobbing._ _Brandy went back down stairs with her brother's machetes and faced her father shell. She stabbed him in the chest and he reacted grabbing for her and biting at her, she used the other blade and drove it in to his face, and dropped him._

_She stayed the night there. Knowing one single thing, that she was different and that those things wouldn't attack her unless provoked.  She slept in her bed one last night. Before waking up early in the morning heading to the garage pulling out a jug of gasoline. She ransacked the house and took anything of value, her father's watches, her mother's jewelry, her brother's weapon's, medicine, food and first aid. Shoving them all in to her black schoolbook bag. She stopped to grab a few family photos from the albums and gently placed them in the front zipper. She grabbed her father's car keys and started to pour the gas all over the house, the carpet, the curtains her father and brother's corpse. Dropping a single match before she left the house, watching it burst in to flames. It attracted them, like moths to a flame the walking dead bodies of her neighbors were drawn to the burning home. Brandy got in to her fathers car and left everything behind._ _  
_

* * *

 

"I could have saved him…I could have saved my baby brother. If I hadn't-been-such a fuckin' pussy." Brandy said slipping down the tree trunk staring off in to nothing. Tears leaving her one normal eye, but her face stayed emotionless almost cold in a way. The face of someone who already cried a thousand times for her family. Daryl didn't say anything, nothing could accurately portray his shock.  "He was like me." she sniffed. "He would be alive right now...if I had." Daryl knelt down in front of her.

"Fuckin' blaming yourself ain't gonna do shit." he said. Brandy shook her head.

"It don't matter, I wished that Sophia would be like me….but she wasn't. Ya can't understand the guilt I have being this…thing." she said clearing the tears from her face.

"Are you-are you the only ones like this?” he asked.

"Naw, I met an old woman who as like me. She told me she was the other one I know of. She thought it was a defect er...some kind of anomaly. We get the fever but we sweat it out it and it-it changes us. I guess we smell dead to them or maybe we don't smell like anything at all. They only realize we alive when were hostile to em’." Daryl shook his head and let out a sigh. "It's really a raw fucking deal, you gotta get bit to know.” she chuckled bitterly and morbid humor of it all. “The thang is how many people me got ripped apart before they could wake up? How many died at their own hand?” she sniffed. “I got lucky as fuck but I pay for that shit in the end with guilt everyday, very moment....and I hate myself for it."

"Holy shit..." he whispered

"Daryl you gotta keep this to yourself." she begged grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him closer. 

"Why? The group would-"

" Da’ group would want me dead, they wouldn't trust me, they would lock me up like a fuckin’ animal. That woman who was like me that I met, she made the mistake of tellin’ people what she was and fear got the best of em’ and they resorted to doin’ crude experiments on her…she almost didn't get away.” Brandy looked worried, crazed with fear. “Shane would want me dead or locked up…he…I don’t trust em’. I fuckin’ trust you. Daryl…please…keep this to yer self." Brandy begged with a whisper looking at him frantic, he let out a grunt. "If I wasn't scared of what they would have done to me I would have told them and gone out to look for Sophia on my own…but…they would treat me like a fucking rabid dog. I was being selfish…" Brandy looked up at him. "I was scared...I don't want them to seem me as some kind of live walker..please don't tell anyone.."

"Fuck." he cursed. Her secret wasn't something small it huge but the fear in her face spoke values to him. Brandy wasn't terrified of walkers but people and what they would do to her if they knew. He nodded slowly "Yer not dangerous to alive people?" he asked. Brandy shook her head.

"No. I'm still human Daryl just...I just don't smell like dinner to them."

"Alright. I won't tell em, but you eventually have to."

"I will tell them when I trust them all. I can't tell them shit now, not afta' what just happened, but for now don't speak of it. We are gonna go back to camp and act like nothing happened. Okay?" Daryl nodded and stood up. She just had to trust him with a secret like that, didn't she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Wait! Before you run away. Let me please explain where I got this idea. So I was re-watching Season one and I thought something was pretty interesting. When Rick wakes up he looks down the hallway and sees a dead body in the hall.
> 
> She is ripped up but not shot in the head. So why didn't she turn in to a Walker? There are dead bodies that are shown that don't have any obvious head trauma. So possibly there are a few people who are immune to a certain extent. The reason I decided to write Brandy like this is that I have sen other fics try to tackle this possibility and I wanted to see if I could create a character like this but still make her believable. Obviously I took creative freedom of course with this so please, review and let me know what you think.


	9. May All Forget That She's The Moth

They walked through the brush on their way back to the farm. It was silent between them; Daryl was still shocked about what she confessed to him in the woods. He couldn't even fathom what it was like to be her, to live with the guilt of what she was. To know everyday that she could have saved her brother, but didn't. They all had pain, they all lost people, but Brandy's anguish was different breed. They came to the tree line that separated the farm property from the rest of the woods, but Brandy stopped him.

"Hey," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "So… do you want to fuck, or what?" If he was speechless before, he was dead speechless now. Daryl just stared at the young woman as she twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. She was blunt and just straight to the point. A small smile came to Brandy's lips as she looked at him. "Yes? No? Maybe or go fuck yourself? Nothin'? Listen, I already trust you with a secret that could get me killed, so why not?" Daryl still didn't speak, trying to process the information, and the idea of it. "Well, whenever you're able to form the words 'yes' or 'no,' come find me." She winked, leaving the woods and heading back to the farm. He shook off his surprise and mouthed the words "What the fuck?"

For the rest of the day and night, Brandy didn't see Daryl. She made sure of that, knowing how to play this game; she had played it many times before, and considered herself a veteran with a gold star.

But for Daryl it was different than with the others. Most men would have jumped at the chance to lay her. She wasn't like Carol, or the other women in the group for that matter, with the exception of Andrea, who was fucking Shane, or so she suspected.

Brandy was selfish; she didn't do it because she wanted attachment or love. She did it because it made her feel good. There was nothing more to it. She had crushed her high school flings' hearts when they wanted something more than what she gave them, even though she made it crystal clear in the beginning. She had never had boyfriend, and she liked it that way, at a distance. And now, the word changing made it even harder for her to 'love;' even the thought of it made her want to puke.

* * *

It was night time now, and Brandy was in one of the folding chairs at camp, smoking the last end of a cigarette. She perked up when she heard sobbing; it was Carol again.

"Hey," Brandy said, getting up and walking towards her. The woman wiping the tears from her face.

"Let me guess, Daryl?" she asked, rubbing Carol's arm.

"I-- don't know-- why-- he…" Carol tried to say in-between sobs.

"Carol, he has two emotions: calm and pissed. He's upset, and that's the only way he can show it."

"Please, don't say thing…" Carol begged, but Brandy shook her head.

"Now, if ya' really didn't want me to say anythin' to him, you woulda made sure I didn't see you cryin’," Brandy said, walking away from Carol and out to where Daryl had set up camp away from the rest of the group.

"Daryl!" she called.

"Daryl," she said again, this time getting an answer from behind her.

"What?! I swear you fuckin' women are driving me fuckin' crazy," he yelled at her. Brandy turned around smiled at his words, effectively pissing him off even more.

"Well, thanks. I normally have that effect," she joked.

"It ain't a compliment," he hissed. "What the fuck do you want now?"

"What the hell, Daryl? Why do you keep yelling and screaming at Carol? That woman cares about you," she said, folding her arms.

"Fuck her," he hissed with poison. "She's annoying as all hell…. and you."

"Oh, what about me?" Brandy snapped back, taking a step towards him.

"You expect me to keep a secret like that?" he yelled, getting in her face. Brandy let out a huff. "You asked for it, fuck, you demanded I tell you. And I did because I fuckin' trust you."

"You're just as bad as Carol."

"No, probably worse," she uttered.

"And you, you fuckin' asked me that question today just to see the look on my face. Was it funny? Huh!?" Brandy felt her face grow hot, but here was no noticeable blush on her dark skin. She shook her head and chuckled.

"Daryl, are ya' fucking' retarded?"

"You fuckin' bitch," he mumbled to himself.

"Don't call me a bitch," Brandy hissed. He took another step towards her.

"What you gonna do about it, huh?" he whispered, their faces only inches apart. Brandy swallowed hard and looked dead at him.

"I didn't ask ya' that to make fun of ya, or to see the expression on your face. I asked you that because I want to," she shrugged. She could tell he was trying survey her expressions to see if she was telling the truth.

"Everyone in this group is wound tight and everyone is at each others’ necks all da' time, and maybe  what people need right now is a good fuck."Daryl backed away and narrowed his eyes at her.

"I'll take that as a 'no' It was just a question, after all, " Brandy said, going to turn and walk back to camp, but his rough voice stopped her.

"Hey." Brandy stopped and looked at him, chewing her bottom lip. He walked up to her still with the same cautious, curious look.

"Before you touch me, you have to know that I'm only in it for the sex. If you want more you betta' go talk to Carol," Brandy whispered to him. He acknowledged her words only with a grunt. Brandy looked around, making sure no one saw them. She pulled away from him and walked to the tent, unzipping it and stepping in, and he followed. The tension the between the two of them was unbearable for her, but she was unbelievably excited about. She had never been with a white boy before, or anyone more than a few years older than her. She hand reached for his belt, slowly undoing it like it was second nature. He touched her shoulder softly as she yanked his belt off with one swoop.

"You alright?" she asked, now working on the buttons of his shirt.

"Your skin's soft," he uttered, causing Brandy to let out a girlish giggle.

"Shut the fuck up, Dixon." Brandy laughed, pushing him down and straddling him. She kissed him hard. Daryl let out a grown at the feeling of her mouth against his. Brandy wiggled her hips on his crotch, moaning when she felt him harden under her. Brandy sat up a ways and slipped her hands in her back post pulling something out. She held the wrapped condom in-between two fingers.

"Always prepared." Brandy winked handing it to him.

"What, ya' carry a bunch of rubbers around with you?"

"Well, you never know. But I stole that one from Glenn, those are the good kind," Brandy said, pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it into a corner of the tent. Daryl reached up to undo the front clasp of her black bra. He paused, waiting for Brandy to consent to his touch her. She surprised how polite he was about. She nodded of course, and then he undid her bra. Brandy shrugged it off, exposing her plump, full breasts. Daryl grabbed them with his worked, rough hands, running his thumbs over her hard nipples. Brandy threw her head back and let out a heated moan.

"Mmm…" She could already feel the wetness pooling between her thick thighs. Daryl gnashed his teeth and grunted. He gripped her up and flipped her over; now on top of her, he explored her body more. Brandy was surprised when he buried his face in to the curve of her neck. He smelled her skin. She had the scent of grass and burning sunlight.

Brandy was shocked at how he was. It was different than all of the other sexual encounters she had on her journey. The others had done nothing but grip her up and fuck her hard, but Daryl… he was taking his time. She thought for sure he would be the same, giving it to her hard and fast, but she was wrong. He touched her like he was skilled with women, interested in what would make her tick, rubbing his hands along every curve she had. Daryl tugged on her shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them with one hand. He slipped his hand in to her panties, and Brandy let out a moan and bucked her hips.

"Oh… shit…" she whispered. Brandy was the best at what she did, but a Redneck was showing her up. She gritted her teeth and tried not to moan again, but she failed when he fondled her with his free hand and let out an almost growl.

"Fuck me…" she whispered to him. He sat up and removed his hand from inside of her panties, and yanked them all the way off. He undid his pants quickly. Brandy kept her eyes on the ceiling of the tent. She always had a thing for feeling it rather than seeing. It made things unexpected and exciting. She heard him unwrap the condom and put it on. He leaned over her and looked in her eyes.  She nodded, slowly gasping when he slipped inside her. Daryl paused, trying to contain himself, but he felt compelled to thrust when he saw the pleased expression on her face.  Brandy reached her hands up and clawed at his back. He went slowly at first, but, being impatient, Brandy let out a whimper and bucked into him with a devious smile on her lips.

"Harder," she uttered. He didn't oblige her at first, slowing down just to tease her. Brandy let out another whimper and bucked into him again. He chuckled at her forcefulness, and then gave her what she wanted.

"Ah!" Brandy cried out, grabbing his hair. She couldn't even understand where all of this was coming from. Normally, she was the one that did the fucking. That had been her plan for tonight, but he showed her up. She was never the one begging to be fucked, but he beat her at her own game. He felt so good. She hadn't had sex like this since her first time, two years ago, when she was sixteen. Her thoughts were interrupted by feeling of him rubbing her clit with his thumb. The pleasure shot through her in a jolt. She was panting, feeling her muscles clench and tighten around his cock.

"Ah-h- D-Daryl…" she cried. That was it. She lost the game. She ran her nails down his back as she twisted under him and came.

"Fuck-- ah-- holy-- fucking-- shit," Brandy whimpered, wanting nothing more than to scream out, but she knew she had to control herself. Daryl stopped thrusting and watched her climax, She threw her head back, her mouth open in utter bliss. She sighed, coming down from her orgasm. She looked up at him with hooded eyes.

"Finish," she ordered, not wanting to leave a job half done. Daryl gnashed his teeth, going back to thrusting his hips. He clenched his eyes shut, going faster and faster. He could feel the coiling in his lower abdomen, the pressure building and building.

"Come on, Daryl..." Brandy whispered, obviously having no problems with him finishing after her. Daryl paused, and Brandy moaned, enjoying the feeling of his cock twitching inside of her.

"Ah…fuck," he cursed in the curve of her neck. He laid there for a moment before pulling out and laying down next to her. They were silent. The only sound was them trying to catch their breath. Brandy wanted to stay and sleep there, but she couldn't-- it would be too risky, and against her own 'fuck code'. She sat up and grabbed up her clothes, and slipped them back on.

"Where you goin'?" Daryl asked, pulling off the condom.

"I better get goin.' I mean, If anyone saw me leaving this tent there would be so much fuckin' drama that me and you both don't want," she said, pulling off her shorts. "I'll see ya tomorrow." She said with a smile as she left his tent. Daryl waited for a moment, expecting her to come back, but she didn't. Brandy walked back over to camp, trying to straighten her hair. She saw Carol sitting on the porch to the Green's house.

"Where'd you go?" Carol asked.

"I just talked to him for a bit. He was just being a dick." Brandy smiled, trying to put the thought of him fucking her out of her mind, but it wouldn't leave.

"Well I'm goin’ to bed, Carol. Goodnight." She knew what her dreams were going to be full of tonight.

******  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For real, I had an idea for this all mapped out and it just changed while I was writing it. I don't know. It was strange. Maybe the music I was listening while writing affected me.
> 
> Incubus- Echo and Here in my room.
> 
> Kings of Leon- Use somebody.


	10. As the Crow Flies

Daryl awoke the next morning, he rolled on his back and let out a hunt.  What a dream that was, Brandy panting and moaning under him, her full mouth saying his name as she came. Her abrasive personality falling away for a few moments, allowing her self to be venerable with him. He hadn't had a dream like that since he was teenager. Daryl sat up and rubbed his forehead, there was the sound of something crushing under the sheet when he shifted. He reached under the covers and found a wrapper; he pulled it out and looked at it. It was a Trojan condom wrapper. 

"Holy shit." he mumbled to himself, putting his hands over his face. Never in a million years he thought he would end up sleeping with someone like her. He had to ask himself what even got in to him. She was almost twenty years his junior, he would have never done something like that if the world hadn't gone to shit. "Fucking hell." he uttered as he got up and got dressed for the day before making his way out of the tent. He walked down to where the rest of the group had camp, not far from the farm house. He saw Brandy hanging some damp clothes on the lines, her hair tied back in a large bushy ponytail. She looked over at him and gave him one expression that acknowledged what has happened last night, nothing more.

* * *

 Rick, Glenn and Hershel were still not back and a few of the others were planning on going in to town to find them. She volunteered to go, knowing that her certain 'skill set' could come in handy on run like that and she was also itching to get off of the farm. 

 Brandy reloaded her gun and grabbed her machetes but the sound of Dale's voice stopped her.

"Where are you goin'?" The old man asked removing his hat for amount and wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Uh, I'm going to go help with the search." Brandy uttered slipping one of her blades under her belt and keeping the other in hand. "Why?"

"Well, I just think they got it covered." Dale said sounding like a grandfather, he looked over at the car they were packing for the run and narrowed his eyes at someone in the group. "You're about Beth's age, she needs moral support right now." Brandy scoffed at his words as she straightened the pink and purple star bracelet that was on her wrist.

"First off, Beth is like two and a half years younger than me." Brandy stated stressing that she was an adult. "And second I'm horrible at moral support I'm good at killin' Walkers." She crossed her arms. "Why are you com in' off all paternal?" she asked only to be answered by him shaking his head as he looked over at the group again.

"Dale, ya need to chill." Brandy said before heading over to the car. She didn't put anything in the trunk she had everything she needed already on her. She heard Shane utter something under his breath about going out to find Rick but Brandy ignored him. Leaning against the car with her arms crossed waiting to head out. They all looked up when they heard something coming down the road. It was the truck that Rick and Glenn had taken on their trip in to town to find Hershel who had been ran off to go drink and grieve. Brandy couldn't blame the old man, he thought the Walkers were just sick. Having that tiny hope ripped away while watching the Walkers you cared for be gunned down would do a number on anyone. Brandy was glad they came on their own and didn't need a rescue mission.

"Who the hell is that?"  T-Dog asked as he pointed to the back seat of the truck. There was a blind folded boy his name was Randal, just what they needed another person.

* * *

The group fathered in the living  room of the Greene's house to discuss what they planned on doing with the their new and obviously unwelcome guest. Rick made it clear he was not staying with them, right off the bat. Brandy stood against the china cabinet with her arms folded, listening to the others. She rolled her eyes, it really didn't even need to be a conversation. She knew if it was her she would have left him to die, he shot at them and if he had the chance he would have killed them if his aim was better. It seemed silly to her for them to spare his life after what he could have done. 

"He won't be on his feet for a week." Hershel said.

"When he is we'll take him out to the main road, give him a canteen and send him on his way." Rick told them. Brandy glanced up when she saw Daryl enter the house. He nodded his head at Carol awkwardly, Brandy figured they must have made up from last night. Carol smiled at him and blushed a little, looking down do the floor. He glanced over at Brandy; she shook her head, quickly looking away from him. 

 Carol looked over at her, curious about the exchange of looks that the two had just had. Carol looked back at Daryl; he wasn't paying any attention at her gaze listening to what the other men were saying. Brandy watched silently as the look on the older woman's face turned to what Brandy took as adoration, it was hard to place. Carol's eyes left his face, scanning down and landing on his crotch. Brandy let out a laugh but quickly covered it with a cough. There they were having a serious conversation about a boy's life and Brandy was laughing like a middle schooler. Rick and Shane were arguing but she was too busy trying to stop herself from busting out laughing. Brandy hacked and covered the smile on her face. The infamous 'Laugh cover cough' that women did often to hide shit talking. She hadn't seen it until then but Carol had a thing for him. The immature teenager inside of Brandy found it funny but there was a sneaking ping of guilt. She had gone to talk to Daryl the night before over how rude he was begin to Carol and then she ended up sleeping with him.  Brandy put her head in her hands and let out a sigh. 

 _Well, you didn't have any idea._ She reasoned. 

* * *

Rick and Shane had gone to go drop the boy eighteen miles after he recovered but it didn't go as planed. Nothing ever did. So they brought him back this time hand cuffing him and putting him in the shed and locked the door. Only letting Daryl enter to shake the kid down for information.

"Hey Brandy." Rick said walking up to her as she sewed up a rip in one of her pairs of jeans while sitting on the hood of her car.

"Yeah?" she asked glancing up at him.

"Listen, you're about Randal's age." Rick started, Brandy's eyebrow rose slightly.

"Yeah, and?"

"I want you to see if you can get some information out of em."

"Ain't Daryl doing that with his fists?" she asked finishing with her patch work on her jeans. 

"Yeah, he is but..maybe Randal would be a little more inclined to talk to you."

"You want me to bat my eyelashes at him or sumthin?" she asked slipping off the hood and looking at the group leader. He didn't say anything only putting his hands on his hips. "Are ya serious right now?"

"He might trust someone a little less intimidating is all I'm saying."

"So good-cop bad cop?" Brandy asked causing Rick to chuckle.

"Well, something like that." he said. Brandy sucked her teeth and narrowed her eye.

"Fine!" Brandy relented throwing her hands up in the air as she walked over to the shed. As soon as she got with in ear shot she heard the sound of Daryl's fist making contact with the boys face and than him begging for him to stop. Brandy smoothed down her hair and knocked. The sounds stopped for a moment as the door creaked open.

 "What?" Daryl snapped. It was clear that he was worked up, sweating, panting and angry. Brandy tried not to smile at the sight of his bloodied knuckles, bitting her lips as a form of control. 

 "Rick sent me." she started noticing the look on his face at her words. "Look, I'm 'bout his age he can relate to me and I'm woman. So it's a lot easier to talk to me then than scary redneck with the buck knife." she whispered to Daryl.

 "Yer' not so sweet yer self, ya know." he grunted.

 "Well, he don't know that." she smiled raising her eyebrow. Daryl grunted it was obvious that he didn't like the idea of it. 

 "Fine, not too long." he said crossing his arms. Brandy put on her nice face with a fake smile that could drop a man dead.

 "Hi Randal." she said with false sugariness that almost made Daryl gag, he rolled his eyes at how she sounded she was laying it on thick. 

 "Who are you?" he asked her from behind a bloodied mouth.

 "I'm Brandy. I just wanna have a talk with you." she smiled bending down in front of him. It was the first time Daryl realized that she had a small tattoo right above her tail bone, her skinny jeans shifting down just enough for him to see it.  He hadn't noticed it when they had sex since he wasn't really paying much attention to the back of her.Daryl let out a grunt at his thoughts and looked away from her, convinced that ceiling was more interesting than the woman in front of him.  "I see ya' already met my friend Daryl."

 "Yeah, he's been beatin' the shit outta me. Please-please make him stop." he begged, at her feet.

 "Oh no, I can't do that. We just want to know about your friends. What are their names? What are they like?" Brandy asked trying to come off like an old friend.

 "They- they're good guys…It's just a bunch of people. Like you all." he panted.

 "Randal, I would love to believe that but, my friends won't." she said glancing back at Daryl. 

 "I don't know nothin' I just met them on the road. They're just people!" Brandy let out a sigh and shook her head.

 "It would be easier for you just to talk to us." she urged. 

 "Well, I guess you ain't as charming as you think." Daryl shot back at her with chuckle at her expense.

 "Fuck you too, Redneck." Brandy hissed standing up and moving out of the way and watched Daryl continue his assault on Randal. He was brutal and it was clear he had no problems beating the shit out of someone. Brandy crossed her arms and tried to ignore the way it made her all hot and bothered for what ever sick fucked up reason. She picked at her nails and tried it seem less obvious, but there was a puddle of wetness pooling in her underwear. Her perverse thoughts cut short when she heard Randal speak when Daryl paused.

 "But…one night we found this little camp site, and man and his two daughters. Teenagers you know real young real cute.' he started to say. Daryl glanced over at her and saw the look on her face he could tell that she was replaying her own memory back as Randal spoke. She stared at him tensing her lip and Daryl could almost see the rage start to build behind her eyes. "The daddy had to watch while these guys while they…they…and they didn't even kill them afterwards they just made him watch." Brandy clinched her fist "But I didn't touch those girls! I swear!" Brandy and Daryl glanced at each other again and this time both of them made it a point to hurt Randal. Brandy's boot smashing in to the boy's nose and right after Daryl socked him again across the jaw. He  still begged still said he was innocent by they weren't buying it.

"What! You think we're stupid huh!?" Brandy yelled snatching the buck knife from Daryl. She put it up against Randal's neck the blade slightly digging at his skin.

"Please!-Please!"

"What did you just watch, huh!" she screamed in his face.

"I-I-"

"No...oh no. I bet it got you hard."

"NO! I-"

"You sick lil' motherfucker." Daryl watched as the knife shuck in her hand, the rage playing across her features. "I should cut yer' fuckin' dick off."

No-God please!" Randal sobbed and sniffled.

"Brandy." Daryl said finally, knowing that if he didn't stop her there was a change she might slit Randal's throat open and bleed him like a pig on the shed floor. She snarled and dropped the knife too the floor, Randal let out a relieved sigh but...they wren't done with him yet. 

* * *

 Brandy held her throbbing hand as her and Daryl walked back to camp. 

 "You alright?" Daryl asked glancing over to the young woman.

 "No, I'm not. You can't understand... those poor girls." she uttered. "He's lying, he's that kind of person. I could see it all in his fuckin' face." she mumbled as they made it to camp. Daryl spoke to the group telling them about Randal's gang and how they were a massive threat and would kill the men and rape the women. Brandy tried to hide her bloodied hand but Rick saw it first.

 " I asked you to talk to him, that was all." Rick chastised. said looking down at her hand. Bandy just smiled and shook her head.

 "Well, when he started to talk about raping two girls in front of their father…I kind of lost my cool." she dryly, and wiped some of the blood on her jeans. . Rick said they had to take care of him that night but Dale chimed in with his two cents.

 "You're just going to kill him?" The older man Brandy could not hold herself together any longer.

 "Are you fuckin' stupid?" Brandy asked stepping towards Dale. Daryl went to pull her back. "Are you listening? That group has guns and thirty` men, men who rape young women. And you want to keep him alive?" she said yanking out of Daryl's grasp.

 "Well, we don't know if he had anything to do with that…you assume he's guilty." Dale tried to say but Brandy cut him off.

 "I could see it in his face and if you guys won't kill him I will." she hissed storming off.

 "What the heck was that all about?" Carol asked Daryl, he rolled his eyes and eyes and went after her. He called her name but she didn't stop. Rick walked away and Dale followed still trying to talk him out of murder. "What is that about?" Carol asked this time directing her question at Andrea. Still watching Daryl and Brandy from a far, he caught up with her. Brandy threw her hands in the air and then grabbed her hair, clearly upset. Daryl walked next to the young woman, just listening to her rant. They couldn't hear what she was saying but her body language told it all.

 "She said she's met the worst kind. Maybe she was or almost became like those two girls. I understand her anger. Most have been horrible." Andrea said still watching them walk away. 

"I meant with Daryl." Carol added.

"Of course you did. They're the same, although Brandy's funnier. I think they understand each other." Andrea said leaving the side of the RV. Leaving Carol to watch them.

* * *

Brandy laid in Daryl's tent at his normal place where he stayed away from camp. She didn't want to be around any of them, she knew that was all they were going to be talking about and she couldn’t stand it. Daryl had been the only to one to know why the issue with Randal had bothered her so much, he got it and didn't fault her for wanting the boy dead. He had told her to go take a nap and sleep it off and she had, falling asleep in his tent after a very long and emotionally draining rant about how things were run on the farm. Not after long Brandy woke up from her nap, she reached in her pack pocket and pulled out a wrinkled family photo that she kept on her at all times. She heard Daryl whittling more arrows for his cross bow. 

 "The whole point of me coming up here is to say away from you people." She heard him say to someone.

 "Well, Brandy's always with you." Dale said from outside of the tent, Brandy rolled her eyes. 

 "Meh, that's different I don’t really mind her... much.”

 "Yeah, she's your little shadow."

 "Carol send you?" Daryl asked. Brandy stopped listening to them, staring at her photos of her family and tried not to let any tears fall although they were welding behind her eyes. She ran her fingers over the faces of her father, her mama, and brothers. The picture was from a year ago when they took a family trip to Orlando Studios. Brandy only perked up again and listened when she heard them talk about her again.

 "Where's Brandy at? I would like to talk to her." Dale asked.

 "I don't know." Daryl lied.

 "Well she's not in camp so I thought she'd be up here with you." There was silence for a moment and then Daryl spoke.

 "She's takin' a nap." he said. Dale glanced over at the tent and then back at Daryl. "It aint what you think. She was fighting mad earlier; she was about to punch you in the face. You know where she stands on the issue, leave it alone."

 "I would still like to just talk to her." Dale tried to reason. 

 'The girl has her reasons, leave it alone." They continued to talk but Brandy smiled at his words. He was really the only one that understood. He had a heart of gold but he just didn't know it.

* * *

 It was sunset and the group was ready to decide the fate of Randal. Brandy walked in the house and leaned against the wall with her arms crossed around her chest unwilling to hear the case for Randal's life. Ready to hear why they should leave the little shit alive and it just turned in to  argument. The rest of them against Dale, old man was holding on to the old world, hoping things had not become so barbaric but it had.

 "Anyone want the floor before me make the final decision has the chance." Rick offered and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep silent about it.

 "Dale, I know you re trying to save his life. But…but…it's not like it was back then. We have to make the decision of life and death now. It is either his life or possibly ours." Brandy said.

 "Possibly! You are willing to kill him on a possibility?" Dale asked.

 "Yes, if he runs and finds his group he will bring them to us. They will kill all of the males, including Carl." she said looking over to Rick. "Then they will take all of the women and rape us until they are sick of us and then they will kill us too. Are we willing to chance that for a little shit we don't know?'  Dale turned his attention to Rick and tried to persuade him again but in the end the group decided on death.

* * *

That night at camp they all got word that they were going to him live for now. Brandy wanted to say something but she didn't' have it in her anymore to argue. The idea of ditching the group if they let him go crossed her mind. Not wanting to be there when the thirty raiders showed up. Then there were screams coming from the field. She jumped out of her seat and with machetes in hand ran towards the noise. Daryl made it there before she did; a walker had gotten Dale and tore in to him. Daryl made sure it was dead.

"Oh my God!" she yelped dropping to her knees and looked at Dale who was clearly suffering. There was nothing anyone could do. And then she felt the wave of guilt come over her. The same feeling she felt when her family died. No one deserved to die like that. Brandy felt her felt tear up, this was why she stayed alone because it was only a matter of time before…before they all ended up like him. She had already grown too close to the group, going against the rules she set for her self. Don't get attached to anyone who was not like her. And watching the old man die right there cemented that for her. It was a panic everyone was yelling. Rick was screaming for Hershel. There was nothing they could do and he was suffering really bad. Rick pulled out his gun and pointed it at Dale's head with shaking hands. But Daryl took it from him and decided to do it himself.

"Sorry brother."


	11. Better Angels

They were forced to covered Dale's body with a sheet, it being far too dark to bury him right then and there they had to wait till the morning to do it. Brandy found herself mentally exhausted but she know she would not be able to sleep, not after that. She offered to keep watch but Glenn insisted, feeling he owed a debt to the old man.

Brandy let out a tiny sigh as she came to Daryl's tent. What he had done early couldn't have been easy and he deserved some checking up on. She cleared her throat before call his name softly. It's silent for a second but then he spoke up.

"What?" he asked, the edge of his gruff voice slightly worn down.

"Can I come in?" Brandy asked politely.

"Sure." he answered; Brandy unzipped the tent and peeked in. "Hey, um…" Daryl sat there pulling off his jacket in the dark, the moon light was the only way she could see him. "What…what you did…it was the right thing...you had to." she said fumbling over her words. He said nothing to her; Brandy chewed her lip and looked down. She sniffled and went to leave the tent but his voice stopped her.

"Don't." he said suddenly. Brandy turned and looked back at him.

"Don't what?"

"…Stay." Daryl said to her, almost as a demand. Telling her that he didn't want to be alone in his own way. Brandy sighed, walked over to him and took a seat next to him.

"What's it like?" he asked, pulling off his shirt.

"What?" Brandy asked rubbing her arms, the nights were getting colder.

"Knowing that you'll never turn." Brandy didn't say thing at first feeling a ping in her heart at his question. Thinking back at her father, brothers, Sophia and now Dale.

"I feel so much guilt." he could tell she was crying ever so softly. "You ask yourself why? Why me? It should had been someone else…someone who could stop this. Jenner's wife should have been like me. I would trade places with someone like that in a second. I don't deserve it, Sophia deserved it. Dale he, deserved it…not me. " she sobbed, the tears running down her face and dropping in to her lap. "I can't lose any more people to fucking Walkers, I can't... " Brandy sniffled clearing the tears from her face. "You, Daryl… you deserve it- you have a heart of gold and you need to know that." she uttered in the dark. "Fuck …"

"Why do this?" he asked lowly. "Keep punishing' yourself for shit that ain't your fault." Brandy let out a small broken chuckle.

"You could never understand…unless you are like me and I doubt it and that is what hurts the most." Brandy whispered. Daryl reached out to her in the darkness and touched her face with his rough hands, wiping her tear away with his thumb. Brandy let out a small sigh at first and then pulled away from him. That moment had became too heavy for her.

"I swear to God' if you tell anyone about my cry in', I will kick you in the nuts." she joked letting out a small laugh. Daryl chuckled as well. "I came here to see how you are doin' not cry like a lil bitch to ya.'"

"I just had to put a bullet in Dale's head, how do you think I'm doin' ?" He scoffed lying down. Brandy let out a huff and scratched her head.

"I just I would…ask." she laid down next to him, making sure that there was room between them. They lay there with nothing being said. The only sound was each other's breathing and the last crickets of the season out side chirping as if they knew their time was up. She wanted to tell him that she thought he should be with Carol, that she needed him and without him the poor woman would end up dead. But instead of speaking Brandy found herself slipping to sleep.

* * *

The sunlight had made it's way in to the tent, the soft morning glow was beautiful. Brandy was at peace and it was disturbingly perfect for a few short seconds when she was waking up. Brandy opened her eyes to realize that she was resting her head on Daryl's bare chest. Brandy instantly became uncomfortable about the whole situation. Alarms in her head going off screaming...

Too close! Too close!

She lifted her head up only to stop when she noticed scars all over him, there were what looked like burn marks too. She didn't see them last time in the dark but now she was tempted to run her finger over one of the large scars but decided against it. She wanted to lay back down, feeling safe and at ease here with him in the orange morning light.

"Wow, that's gay." Brandy whispered to herself before sitting up and shaking her head at the idea. That wasn't Brandy's M.O when it came to men, she was the hit it and run type. Brandy slipped out of the tent with out waking him. Heading back to camp to start her day.

* * *

After Dale's morning funeral, Brandy joined Andrea, Shane, Daryl and T-Dog. On an outing to make sure that a preventable death like that didn't happen again. Taking out every Walker they saw with in a five-mile radius. Brandy found herself not caring of the others figured out what she was, knew she owed it to the old man to go out and chop some Walker. Swinging her machete, slicing in to a Walker's neck and then it's head. It's blood splattering on her face but she made no to move to wipe it off. Dale, he had remained her of her Papaw, always sticking his nose in other peoples business; but doing it only because he cared. Willing to say what he thought no matter whom it would piss off. For all of his annoyance…he was still a good man.

The Greene's had decided to move them in and most of the group felt that it took them long enough. Brandy moved her car closer to the house and pulling out her things and moving them on to the porch until she knew where to put her things.

"Ay' Carol, let me help you with that." Brandy said noticing the woman was carrying two heavy bags.

"No, I got it." Carol said snatching away from Brandy's touch and walking away.

"Uh, what da fuck was that?" Brandy asked Andrea as she walked past.

"She's a little upset." The blonde said watching the older woman struggle with the heavy bags.

"About Dale?"

"No, she's upset about you and Daryl." Andrea confessed. Brandy let out a scoff and put her hands on her hips.

"What da hell is there to be upset about?"

"She saw you leaving his tent this morning."

"Fuck..." Brandy paused and let out a sigh. "Listen, after what he had to do last night; he didn't wanna to be alone. So I stayed with him, we talked."

"So you mean to tell me there is nothing else going on?" Andrea asked raising her eyebrows

"What, like you and Shane?" Brandy smiled.

"How the fuck do you know about that?" Andrea whispered, narrowing her eyes at Brandy.

"I have been around a few times. I can tell." she smirked.

"So much for keeping it a secret." Andrea uttered putting her head in her hands.

"Daryl, he's a good man. He was out there lookin' for Sophia everyday…someone had to relieve his tension and Carol wasn't jumping at the chance to help him with that."

"Oh my God. Well, at least you are generous." Andrea laughed.

"So what the fuck did she say about it, huh?" Andrea paused for a moment not wanting to set Brandy off, but before she could answer Brandy was already making her way to the house.

"I'll just ask her myself." she said, walking away.

"Oh shit." Andrea mumbled, shaking her walked in to the house, tuning toward the dining room finding Carol setting down a few things. Brandy smacked her gum and stepped next to the woman.

"What's yer' problem?" he cut. Carol looked at her and then away.

"I don't have a problem." she said meekly.

"Well, I hear you do. Listen I don't have time fo this bull-shit. Ya gotta issue than step to me." Brandy snapped.

"I- I don't have any reason to be mad at you-" Carol started to say but Brandy cut her off.

"Ya damn right." she said putting her finger up. "You want him then take yo legs and walk right out that door and tell him that. Stop mumbling and being 'poor Carol' because you don't have the balls to say something. While you sit here and tryin' to make up yo mind some other woman is going to notice that he is one of the last men worth a damn and they are to make a move, it won't be me but it will be someone. But don't act like you have reason to get mad at me. He's not yours, if you want him then do sumin' about it." Brandy spat to Carol with a flash of white-hot attitude she sucking her teeth and stormed out of the house.

"Brandy I'm going to need you to-" Shane started to say to her as soon as she stepped out of the house.

"You ain't my daddy! You ain't no ones daddy!" she hissed walking away. "What is it! Asshole day, you niggas get on my damn nerves."

"Ay young lady you get back here right now!" Shane went to follow her but T-Dog stopped him.

"Yo, man. I'm telling you leave that one alone." he said shaking his head.

Brandy was agitated, she had to deal with what ever Carol's problem was and Shane bossing everyone around like he was important. She knew she couldn't just chill-out; everyone else was working so she needed to find something to busy herself with.

"Hey, Hershel." she said to the older man who was talking to Rick. "Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Well, I know that no one has gotten around to feeding the chickens yet. If you could do that it would be a help." he suggested. Brandy smiled and nodded and went to do to the hen house.

* * *

Brandy knelt with chicken feed in her palm outside of the hen house, letting the baby chicks peck from her hand. They were cute, chirping happily.

"It would be faster to just throw the feed." Daryl said behind her

"No shit." Brandy sliced, not turning to look at him.

"What's yer problem?" he asked. Brandy let out a huff and threw the rest of the seed on the ground.

"I'm fucking annoyed." she snapped, brushing her hands on her pants.

"You gonna cry about it?" Daryl scoffed under his breath. Brandy clinched her fist and took the insult to heart. Thinking that he was poking fun of her emotional display last night, she stomped up to him with a clinched jaw.

"How about you shut the fuck up, Redneck." she hissed. Daryl didn't take her attitude well.

"Who do you think you are talkin' to?" Daryl hissed getting in her face. Brandy felt her face heat with anger, going on her first reaction to push him. Daryl snatched her by her wrist and the sound that left Brandy's mouth was nothing short of a frustrated moan. Her eyes daring him to do something, wanting him to do something.

Brandy was unsure at what happened but somehow she found her face against a support beam. Daryl's hands reaching in front of her and undoing her pants as he let out short grows in her ear. Brandy could not help but get wet as at the heat of it all. He snatched her pants and underwear down with a forceful tug. Reaching his rough hands up in to her shirt and fondling her. Brandy let out a tiny moan and gripped the beam, felling the worn wood dig itself in to her palms but she ignored the sticking pain. Daryl undid his belt and pants in a hurry. Brandy glanced over her shoulder and saw him spit in his hand and stroke himself, making things a bit easier. He kicked her legs wider with his foot and grabbed her hips.

"Scoot down." he ordered and she did, letting out a moan once he filled her quickly. She knew he had it in him to be rough and he was doing a good job at it, gripping her fleshy hips and slamming in to her. She smiled against the wooden beam relishing in the thought of him being angry enough to give it to her like that.

"Holy-ah!-Fuck" Brandy mumbled "Ah Dar-" she went to moan but Daryl covered her mouth with hand. Brandy uttered from behind his palm as she felt her knees grow weak. He let out a low groan and then pulled out of her quickly, finishing on the ground in front of him. Brandy pulled her pants back up and fluffed out her hair.

"Why do you like it like that?" He asked her, zipping up his pants. Brandy turned and smiled.

"It's detaching." she said. "The softer you do it the more it means something that it's not supposed to. Selfish, you get off I get off and we're both happier people. I like being the one that can give a few moments to make someone forget how the world is."

"You sayin' you don't do it because you like to?" he asked confused by this young woman's thought process.

"Oh no, don't get it twisted." Brandy laughed. "I love to fuck, it's just I feel that some people need it. I mean you got a lot of rage Daryl." she winked with a devious smile. "I mean who else would I fuck in this group?"

"T-Dog." he said. Brandy stopped and put her hands on her hips.

"Are you saying that because we are both black?"

"Naw…I was just sayin'"

"But I mean really? What did I expect from an ignorant ass Red-neck." she joked, playfully.

"Fuck you, Hood-rat."

'He's gone!" they just heard T-Dog yell, obviously it had to have been about Randall. Both of them ran over to the shed to see what had happened. The guess was that Randall had slipped out of his cuffs and got out through the rafters, since the door was locked from the outside. Until Shane came out of the woods yelling with a bloody nose.

"Little basterd snuck up on me and clocked me in the face." Shane said. Brandy raised her eye brow at his words.

"Hershel, T-Dog get everyone back in the house. Glenn and Daryl come with me. " Rick ordered.

"No wait! It's almost night fall I mean he won't get too far in the dark." Brandy protested not wanting any of them to go out. Wanting to volunteer herself but she knew the others would not understand.

"He could get far enough." Daryl said loading an arrow in to his cross bow. Brandy touched his forearm and looked at him.

"Please be safe." She told him before walking way. Daryl understood her worry knowing that if any of them would end up dead she would end up feeling guilty


	12. As We Watch the End Go By

Brandy sat there with everyone else, waiting for them to come back, nervously bouncing her knee and biting her nails. She was sweating, her hands shaking. She couldn't take it anymore, but Andrea spoke up before she could.

"I'm going after them," she said, standing up.

"Me too," Brandy agreed.  

She grabbed her machete, and right as they were prepared to leave, Daryl and Glenn walked in the house. Brandy let out sigh of relief, but it was short-lived, because Rick and Shane weren't  with them.

"We heard a shot," Daryl said.

He then told them that they found, Randal but he had turned.

"Weird thing is he wasn't bit," Glenn added.

Brandy wrinkled her brow, thinking that she misheard him at first.  

"Shane and Randal were together," Daryl grunted.

"Why would they be?" she asked.

"We don't know, but I'm sure of it. Their tracks were on top of each other."

"Will you please go back out there, and find Rick and Shane, and find out what on Earth is going on?" Lori pleaded with them.

"Wait, I'm comin' this time," Brandy insisted.

Daryl, Glenn, Andrea, and Brandy all went out the door and stepped on the porch. They all stopped, the air being snatched from their lungs at what they saw made their jaws drop.

It was a huge herd of Walkers, headed right for the farm.

"Oh fuckin’ God."  

It was obvious that they could not just ride this one out.

"Carl's gone!" Lori said in a panic, running out to the porch.

"What?" Brandy snapped, putting her hands on her head.

"I swear, how hard is it to do yer job and keep track of yer fuckin' son?" she screamed at Lori.

Not only did they have to worry about a herd of walkers, now they had to worry about Carl because he wouldn’t stay in the house.

"We'll find him," Carol said, pulling Lori in to the house.

"Fuck it. I'm goin', "Brandy shrugged.

"What?" Daryl asked, grabbing her by her arm.

"I'll be perfectly fine," she said, yanking away from him. "I'm gonna to get my car and distract them away from the house, then ya’ll have a betta’ chance."

"Brandy your car is way over there!" Glenn protested, pointing east.

It was parked a ways away. She smiled and shrugged.

"Dodge and weave, baby. Just dodge and weave. And besides, I can't just leave my car, she’s a classic."

She smiled.

"Can you please be fuckin’ safe? " Brandy said, looking at Daryl. "All of you. If I have to deal with someone else's death I don't know what I'd do."

"But what if we have to deal with your death, Brandy!?" Glenn yelled.

Brandy snickered and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Yo Glenn, just dodge and weave. If ya don't get grabbed you don't get bit, I can promise that much," she said, before making a run for it, not caring anymore if they all noticed that the Walkers didn't grab her, not caring if her cover was blown because in that moment realized she was in too deep. They were her new family, and she needed to use what was to give them a chance. She needed to help this time, like she should had done with her brother, like she should have done with Sophia. It was time for Brandy to nut up or shut up.

She got to her car, revving the engine and making it growl. Attracting Walkers towards her, she drove around the property in a mad heat, shooting with one hand out the window and one hand on the wheel. She hit a walker in her steel car, and watched it bounce off her hood, it's skull cracking in two. She ditched the gun; running them down was far more effective. In the rear view she saw that the barn was on fire, but she quickly refocused on popping off Walkers under her wheels.

"Fuck yeah! Get some!" she yelled, doing doughnuts in the dirt as they hissed and tried to grab at her through the rolled down window.

She heard a scream and saw Andrea run off on foot.

"Shit!"

She went to make for her, until her windshield was cracked and busted by the force of one Walker too many being hit by it. The glass shattered into her face, hitting her 'bad side’. A few of them reached in for her, through the now exposed front of the car, but she hit the gas and shook them off. The slices on her face from the busted windshield were bleeding pretty badly; she could feel it dripping down her face. She turned her car around and looked to see if she could find Andrea but she was gone.

"Fuck!!" she swore, as she noticed she was the last one on the farm.

She needed to leave now or the Walkers would have her. She hadn't seen anyone else and didn't know who got off the farm. She looked at the crumbling barn in her rear view and prayed that everyone was safe. Brandy had no idea where to go, thinking back to the sign that they had left Sophia, and the highway.

* * *

"Hey, has anyone seen Brandy?" Daryl asked the rest of the group, looking around for her.

"No, the last time I saw her, she was trying to take some Walkers down with her car," Lori said, clearly shaken but the whole ordeal.

There was the hum of a motor down the highway, they looked up to see Brandy's dented up white AMX now painted with blood. The car hummed to a stop and she got out.

"Holy shit, ya'll are alive," she uttered, a weight lifted off of her.

Daryl walked up to her and grabbed her by her chin, and looked over her injuries.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked.

Brandy sucked her teeth and yanked away from him

"Windshield busted in my face… not like I get most use out of this eye anyway,” she said with a pained smile. She looked around to see who made it.

"Did you see Andrea?" Rick asked her.

"Yeah, uh. I heard her screaming' and I went to go back, but they surrounded me. I mean, they were distracted with me… so she could have made it on foot, I was bein' pretty loud," Brandy said as she picked a tiny shard of glass out of her eyebrow.

* * *

They decided to head east and stay off main roads, a plan as good as any. The group had to stop after a few miles, seeing as Rick’s truck was almost out of gas. Brandy let out a sigh as she pulled over to the side of the road. Her body was running on empty, as well. She had to keep stopping herself from falling asleep at the wheel. She near about fell out of her car to see what was going on.

"We will have to make a run for gas in the morning," Rick said, pacing back and forth on the road.

"It's not safe, Rick. We are on an open road," Brandy uttered.

Maggie offered to go get gas, but Rick wanted them to stay together.

"Rick, listen. I'll make a run real quick. I can do it," Brandy urged. They couldn't stay there.

"No, we are not splitting up. And definitely not you, your injuries are too bad," Rick demanded.

"Yeah, Brandy, you look like yer' about to pass out. It's not a good idea," Daryl added.

Brandy let out a sigh and went to rub her eyes, but then she stopped, remembering that it would hurt. Rick held his ground and refused to let them split, saying they would had to stay the night there.

"Does this feel right to you?" Carol asked Daryl, looking worried, and then glancing over at Brandy to see what her expression yielded.

"Ya’ know I found Randal, right? He turned," Daryl started to say to Rick. "He had turned but he wasn't bit."

Rick went silent as if he knew something they didn't.

"How is that possible?" Beth asked, looking at Rick for answers.

"What the hell happened out there?" Lori asked.

"Shane killed Randal. Just like he always wanted to," Daryl told them.

Brandy was confused at how someone could turn without a bite. Shane murdering Randal was obvious.

"We’re all infected," Rick spoke up, suddenly dropping a bombshell on them.

Brandy's eyes bugged out at his words.

"What?" she asked with chattered teeth.

Infected? How? Was it changing? Before people who died any other way didn't turn, she knew that for sure. They had all seen bodies of the dead that just died, malnutrition, murder or suicide. They didn't come back, only the ones that were bitten.

"At the CDC, Jenner told me. Whatever it is… we all carry it."

"And you never said anything?" Carol asked him, stepping closer, sounding betrayed and angry.

"Would it have mattered?"

"That was not your call. When I found out about The Walkers in the barn, I told for the good of everyone," Glenn cut.

Brandy huffed and covered her face.

"I thought it best if people didn't know," Rick said to the rest of them.

What a secret to keep, but Brandy could not judge. She fought past the sick feeling she had in the pit of her gut and spoke.

"I-- I-- uh-- I have to something’ to tell ya’ guys," she uttered lowly.

Daryl glanced over at her, already knowing what was coming. They all looked at her. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the expressions on their faces once she spoke those heavy words that she had only shared with Daryl.

"Since we getting’ everything’ out in the open…”

She paused and swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, fighting the urge to vomit from her nerves.

“Guys… I'm I guess the word would be… "

She thought she was going to vomit.

"... immune."

Brandy opened her eyes and looked at them. There was silence for a moment as they all just gawked at her with mouths open and wide eyes.

"What?" Rick asked, stepping towards her. She instinctively back away from him.

"That's possible?" he asked.

"I got bit when it all started. I had the chills, the fever, but I woke up," she mumbled.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Lori questioned, sounding angry with her.

"Because like Rick said, sometimes people don't need to know shit. Be thankful I trust ya’ll enough to tell you now. You guys can use me as a tool; Walkers won't attack me if I leave them alone. Whatever it is, they smell it in me… infection or whatever. I guess I'm a… a live Walker or something, I don't know how it works, but..." she trailed off touching her blackened scars down her face. "Now, I'm goin' to go get gas. I'll be back."

"I said no," Rick spat, grabbing her arm. "You're still injured, I'm not letting you go out by yourself. Just because Walkers won't mind you that doesn't mean you're invincible. We are going to need you here just in case."

Brandy rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. The rest of the group was still staring at her in awe or horror… she knew some of them saw her as a ticking time bomb. All she could do now was hope they didn't turn on her.

* * *

Brandy picked the glass out of her face and took a cocktail of antibiotics that she had in her backpack, but she was fresh out of painkillers. She sat by the fire with the rest of them, nodding off to sleep, until she heard Carol whisper something.

"And Brandy, she could turn at any moment… we don't know what she is even capable of," Carol whispered to Daryl.

Brandy peeked her eyes open and glared at the woman.

"If she would have told us earlier, she could have went after Sophia and saved her, or--"

"Don't you fuckin' blame me for your daughter’s death," Brandy piped up, lifting her head and staring at her.

"Say somethin' like that about me again and I'll come across this fuckin' fire at you. Cuz bitch I ain't the one," Brandy hissed, wishing she had not told them.

"But you could have… "

"Could have what? What the fuck did you do? What have you ever done? When your child was lost you didn't lift a finger. You depended on everyone else," Brandy spat, standing up. "I'm goin' to get more firewood. I wish I wouldn't have told ya’ fuckers nuthin'."

"Brandy, don't," Daryl said, grabbing her arm. "I ain't gonna tell you again, yer’ not going out there alone." his hand slipping down from her arm and to her hand.

Brandy looked at him and nodded. Carol stared at them and mumbled something to herself, but it was too low to make out. Brandy sat back down and rubbed her face, and let out a huff.

"I ain't a good person…” she started looking at the fire. “I ain't a brilliant mind that could have done somethin’ about this, like Jenner's wife. I ain't a mother who has someone to raise,” Brandy said, looking over at Carol as her eyes started to glint with tears. “Not a child with their whole life a head of them. I'm ain't  a leader like Rick, not a role-model like Dale was, and I surely ain't a saint like Daryl."

Brandy sobbed, and Daryl looked up at her words.

“I left my baby brother to die… and when I came back he was dead…"

They all looked at her as she stared into the fire, tears rolling down her face.

"He was like me,” she whispered, looking down at her hands. “I held him in my arms and I knew I could have saved him… so don't you fuckin’ dare blame me for anythin’. I have enough guilt to last me two damn life times." she looked back at Carol, whose eyes filled with tears because of Brandy's words.

"I suffer enough pain being this…" she pointed at her white eye, "fuckin' thing…”

There was a sound that come from the woods, and everyone got nervous. Brandy turned towards it and pulled out her machetes, stumbling from exhaustion.

"Do something," Carol had the nerve to say to Rick.

"I am doing something, I'm keeping this group together, alive! I have been doing that all along. No matter what, I didn't ask for this! I killed my best friend for you people, for Christ’s sake!" Rick hissed from behind his gritted teeth.

Brandy swallowed hard at his words. Shane needed to die. He would have destroyed them, but she never expected that Rick to kill him.

"You saw what he was like, how he pushed me, how he compromised us, how he threatened us. He staged the whole Randal thing and let me out to put a bullet in my back," he snarled, looking at Lori. "He gave me no choice. He was my friend, but he came after me. My hands are clean."

No one said anything, too scared to speak.

"You think you are better off without me, then go ahead, " Rick continued.

Brandy glanced over at Carol, but of course she didn't move to leave

"Go on, there's the door, you can do better. Let’s see how far you get!" he said to them, and no one moved, not even Brandy. She didn't want to leave them… not because she was scared, but because she cared for them.

"No takers? Fine. But lets get one thing straight: you are staying, this isn't a democracy anymore."

****  
  



	13. The Gap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written in Brandy's P.O.V

_There came a time when I had to ask myself if staying with this group was something I wanted to do. The question dug in to me more and more every moment it went unanswered. What was I fighting for? What was my reason now? Survival at any cost, but was that really it? I wondered if I had a duty, being what I was, blessed or cursed, to do more with myself then just keep livin'. I had always told myself, after I realized it, that my purpose and job was to find others like me and make a life. I knew it was hereditary; my younger brother didn't turn, but he didn't survive his injuries. I had believed that, until I fell in to this group by way of his misfired arrow._

_I ask myself what is keeping me here, if I believe my purpose is not yet fulfilled? I had been alone since this shit started, crying, bleeding, fighting and killin'. I had crossed ways with horrible men that wanted nothing more then lure young women into hands with promises food and shelter, only to rape them. That was the first time I became a killer, when I was almost taken advantage of in a darkened house on the edge of town, in my first week struggling to survive. I had become a jaded woman, with no trust for the living. I had told myself never to grow to care about people that were not like me, because those people could get bit, and turn into fucking Walkers. But I broke my rule, and now I care. I am comfortable with them. Maybe I’m scared to leave because I’ve lost my edge, and I don't know if I can survive alone anymore._

_I feel myself growing close to the man that brought me to this group; he had almost killed me the first time we met, mistaking me for a Walker… I can’t blame him for his shot. At first we were at odds, but quickly I begin to realize we are more the same than different, coming from opposite ends of 'low class' to the point where we can understand each other. I trust him more than I had ever trusted anyone else, before and after the world went to shit. I told him what happened to me, and then I offered myself to him. He accepted… of course. When I lay with him, I felt that there might have been something more he wanted, but my body was the only thing I was willing to give. I can never give my heart to anyone. I know the widow wants him, and she has for some time. She could give him everything that I can, and more. It would not be hard for me to cling to him and have him hope for love that I can’t not offer him. If I were been normal, I would be able to give him the feelings that he needs, but I’m not. I can never love someone one who could turn. I refuse to put my heart on the line only to have it snatched from up under me. And unlike me, she needs him; without someone like him by her side, I fear she would  die.  Everything that poor woman had been through…  she deserves a knight. And he definitely deserves a woman who could give him more than what’s in between her legs, because he is a fucking good man._

_And as bitter sweet it is, I realize that I have grown, from the college-age hood-rat with the bad attitude to a woman who understands life, death, and sacrifice. And now I stand at a crossroads, with the choice to leave or stay. I know we are going to take a prison, and my brush with 'the worst kind' before in my travels doesn't have me jumping for joy over the idea of what monsters more horrifying than Walkers could be there. But I have decided to stay with them through thick and thin, because there is nowhere in this world I would rather be then with my group, my pack, my new family._

**  
**


	14. The parting glass

_**Winter:** _

_Were the winters always this cold in Georgia? Brandy thought back before the world went to shit; she didn't remember it ever being this drab. She was exhausted, they all were, and it was only February. She was surprised that they had all made it that far. She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep for years._

_They were inside of house that they raided. No need to get too comfortable, because they would be leaving in the morning. They never got to catch their breath, never got more than a few hours of sleep at a time. It wasn't uncommon for them to find a place and then have to leave because the threat of Walkers was too high. She hadn't felt rested since the farm. She would give anything to go back… just to turn the clock back and change things._

_Brandy kept her silenced gun in her hand as she peeked out of the window and kept watch while everyone one else settled in for the night. She felt her gut growl; she hadn't eaten in almost 2 days. Food was scarce, but she tried to stay strong, giving her share of the food up to Lori and the kids. They needed it more than she did._

_"Hey," she heard from her side._

_She looked up to see Rick. He looked worn down. He wasn't the same man that she had met almost a year ago. He had been optimistic, reminding her of a young boy who wanted to be a hero and save everyone. But now he had become hard and prickly. She liked the new Rick better. He was grounded. He understood that the world had changed. But she couldn't help but miss the warmth he once had, leaving like the heat of the summer turning cold with the winter._

_"What up boss man?" Brandy said, trying to lighten the dark mood that the whole group had since they left the farm._

_"You look horrible," Rick said to the young woman, who let out a bitter chuckle. "No really, go get some rest, kid."_

_Brandy went to open her mouth and argue, but she knew better. What Rick said is what was going to happen. She nodded, put her gun under her belt, and walked down the hall. It was a rather large house, the biggest place they had in a while, with enough space where they didn't have to be crowded and on top of each other, but still close enough where if there was trouble they were all within earshot._

_Brandy made her way down a dark hallway and to a small back bedroom. She saw Daryl lying on the floor. He glanced up at her form in the doorway._

_"Want a roommate?" she asked, not waiting for him to answer._

_"Shut the door a bit," he grunted._

_Brandy pushed the door closed about half way before walking over to him and lying down besides him on the floor. They just lay there for a moment, listening to the sounds of the wind hitting against the old windows of the house._

_Daryl closed his eyes, only to be surprised by the feeling of Brandy's lips on his. They hadn't been together since the farm, and then only twice. There just wasn't enough time or privacy, but it seemed the moment was too good to pass up. He felt her curly hair tickle his face as she leaned over him. She made it clear to him that it was only sex, that was all. And if he wanted anything more he would be disappointed. Daryl had wondered why she was so emotionally unavailable, but he could never ask her. Why ruin a good thing?_

_She straddled him and yanked on his shirt as she tried to undo it feverishly, not knowing when she would get another chance to relive stress._

_"Whoa, calm down," Daryl whispered to her._

_"Shut up," she replied, pulling up her shirt and bra._

_Daryl nervously glanced to the door. What if someone walked in on them? It was obvious that Brandy didn't give a fuck about that. Daryl shifted his weight and flipped Brandy on her side. She let out a whine, disappointed that he wouldn't let her be on top. He snatched down her pants and undid his as well. Daryl went to push himself into her, but Brandy let out an uncomfortable sound._

_"Not wet enough yet," she whispered._

_Daryl groaned with frustration, spitting on his hand applying it to his cock to make it easier. He tried again, clenching his teeth at the feeling of her. He had forgotten how she felt._

_"Fuck…" he mumbled as he rocked his hips._

_Brandy bit her lip and arched her back, pushing into him, wanting him to go deeper. Daryl rested his head against the back of hers, taking in the earthy smell of her wild hair, his rough hand leaving her hip and finding it's way in between her clenched legs and stroking her clit._

_Brandy wanted nothing more than to cry out, but she knew she had to keep it in. Trying to stay silent while fucking was one of the hardest things to do, and worse when he did shit like that to her. Daryl couldn't describe what it was about Brandy; she made him feel like a completely different man when they were together like this. He felt a confidence in those few moments when he was between her thighs. He never had that much nerve with a woman until he lay with her._

_"Ah Daryl…I'm gonna…" Brandy moaned softly, but her sentence was cut short by her orgasm. She clenched her teeth to hold in a moan and felt her leg twitch against the carpeted floor._

_She pushed her hips back into his cock, annoyed with the fact that he had stopped._

_"Finish," she mumbled._

_Daryl nodded, and did what she had told him to do. She hated leaving a job half done. Daryl didn't last much longer, pulling out right before he came in her. The last thing the needed would have been Brandy becoming another Lori._

_Brandy straightened herself up and flipped over on her back._

_"Goddamn. I wish I had a cigarette after that," Brandy said._

_"You and me both," Daryl chuckled, lifting his hips and pulling his pants up._

_Brandy let out a pleased sigh as she laid next to him._

_"You ain't gonna run away from me this time?" he asked. The first time she didn't even stay five minutes after they were done._

_"I don't have anywhere to run to, now do I?" Brandy said, before she shivered at the draft that was in the house._

_"You're freezing," Daryl said._

_"Yeah… it's cold in here," Brandy spoke, rubbing her hands together. "Do you mind if I… just for the warmth?"_

_"Yeah, like I would say no and let you shiver all night. Come here," Daryl said, straightening out his arm allowing Brandy to lay on his chest._

_She felt uncomfortable as they lay in silence, the only light being from the moon that came through the old windows. This was too close. They were friends and sex was all it was. But lying there in the silent house, on his warm chest, was blurring that clear line. She didn't want to be there. She didn't like how safe she felt with him…_

_She didn't have time to protest, because she fell peacefully asleep in a matter of moments. Daryl found his fingers subconsciously running their way though her hair as she slept…._

* * *

 

**Summer:**

The summer was back, unwilling to relent when it came to the sun’s blasting heat. They had just raided a house and tried to settle in for the night, but they had to abandon it. There were too many Walkers around. Constantly on the run, constantly looking over their shoulders. They stopped on the high way to get their bearings.

"Damn it, we already passed through here in the spring," Brandy muttered as she looked over the survey map that they carried around to track their movements.

"Yeah, we've been going circles this whole winter," Maggie said, shaking her head.

"You think I don't know that?" Rick snapped at the two women.

Rick had been trying his best, but Brandy felt that they needed to get farther out. Brandy huffed and looked over to the truck. Lori sat in the passenger seat, looking worn down. Brandy walked over to the truck peeked in to the window.

"Hey, how you doin'?" Brandy asked, glancing down at her round belly. The baby would be coming anytime now.

"I don't know how much more I can take of this," Lori mumbled.

Brandy pulled out a bottle of water out of her backpack and handed it over to Lori.

"Here, you gotta stay hydrated."

Daryl stood talking to Rick, glancing over to Brandy.

She had changed, the girl that he met a year ago in the woods. He almost killed her, mistaking her scarred side of her face and her white eye for the face of a Walker. She was a bitch back then. But after the farm went up in flames, Brandy changed from the hood-rat college-aged girl to the woman that understood life and death. She had told them all the truth, that she was immune, and since then she had taken the responsibility that came with that, becoming the runner, putting herself in danger because she knew she could. He was surprised at how much respect he had gained for her.

 

* * *

 

The group sat there by the fire that they built inside of the gates of the ominous prison they had stumbled upon earlier on in that day. Brandy kept looking at it in the night, large and wide full of cellblocks and hallways, and places for people to hide.

"We have to go in there," Rick said explaining the plan to the rest of them.

"What about the inmates?" Brandy asked suddenly, looking towards their leader, and then to the rest of them. Daryl saw the look on her face knew what was running through her mind. The story she had told about her first week alone, and what that man had almost done to her. He could tell the thoughts of the worst kind, as she called them, were running in her mind.

"This place was overrun--" Rick started to say.

"But this is a maximum security prison, people on death row were placed here," Brandy said, noticing the looks that most of the women made at her words.

"We know the kind of men that were put here, it's not just walkers we gotta worry about," Brandy finished, getting up from the grass and walking away from the group. She knew the men that would be the guts of the prison.

Carol patted Brandy on the shoulder as she walked past her. Daryl turned and followed the young woman as she went to patrol the perimeter again. They didn't talk for a few moments, Daryl falling in to step besides her.

"You thinkin' about leavin', ain't you?" Daryl asked, noticing her thin eyebrows wrinkling.

She reached up and scratched her old scars that ran down the right side of her face.

"Ya know how I feel about it things like that… I bet some of them are dug in. God knows what they had done to get here," she said, looking back over to the prison.

"So you would rather leave and go back out there alone?" Daryl asked.

Brandy tightened her lips, thinking about the choices she had.

"Hey…" he said, looking at her. "Listen, if there're any motherfuckers in there, I promise we'll take care of um'. Me and Rick, for the safety of the group."

Brandy looked at him. Daryl was lots of things, but he wasn't a liar. She smiled and nodded and looked him in the eyes.

"Christ... your poncho is so gay," she laughed, shaking her head and walking away. She and Carol made fun of it all the time. 

* * *

 

"Okay, me, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog will go in there. We have to secure that north gate and then go in to secure this first cell block. The rest of you will try to distract them through the gate to get them off of us," Rick said, laying out the plan. "Brandy, you do what you do best."

She nodded.

"But you need to watch yourself. Last time you got flanked by too many of them, and we almost lost you," Glenn said.

It was true; Brandy sometimes forgot that Walkers were still a threat to her in large numbers. No one, not even Brandy, understood how the immunity worked. All they knew was that Walkers didn't react to Brandy like they did to the others. She didn't smell alive to them, she only guessed that when she got bitten, the virus changed how she smelled, so they only reacted to her when she attacked them or made noise.

"Yeah, yeah. I got it," Brandy said, pulling out her machetes and heading towards the gate. "I'm headed to the back. I'll start choppin' when you guys get in."

Rick nodded and pulled open the gate. They watched Brandy make her way in. She didn't run. She had learned the hard way last time that some Walkers were smart enough to know she was alive when she ran. She almost didn't comeback last time, so now she took her time walking slowly. A few of them sniffed her, hissing, but then turned away.

"She's really good at that," Maggie said, watching Brandy maker her way through the Walkers. It always put them on edge whenever she ran ahead, they all cringed when a Walker would get close to her.

She made it, looking up and giving the signal. They entered in a tight formation. The others were banging on the gates, yelling and distracting a good amount of Walkers away from them. And then Brandy went to work attacking the geeks that were close to her. There were more than she had thought; she didn't have enough time to see what the others were doing. Trying to keep a Walker off of her, one of them bit at her and she chopped half of its head off.

She heard Maggie scream from in front of her. Some of the geeks had on SWAT gear, making it hard to get to their heads. They had to stab under the protective marks to get to the brain. Some of them had rotted away to the point of being mostly skeletal remains. Rick ran up and secured the gate while Brandy covered him.

They finally made it into the cellblock. She thought it would have been overrun, but it wasn't. Only a few Walkers were still locked in their cells, and dead bodies of few inmates that had been shot. They cleared out the cells and dragged the bodies outside. They all had grown used to the stink of death.

"Tomorrow we are going to clear out the next block," Rick said to them. "Let's get some sleep."

"We sleep in the cells?" Carol asked, not sounding excited about that idea.

"I ain't sleepin in a cage," Daryl said.

"Fuck that, me either," Brandy huffed, walking up the stairs and taking a seat against the wall.

The prison made ambient noise, clanking, and hissing noises coming from generators. It sounded like it was mulling with it's own life. She hoped that this place would become home.


	15. Hiding in the bowels.

Brandy woke up from her rest from the first night in the prison, and she had a crick in her neck from sleeping against the wall. Maybe taking a cell wasn't such a mad idea…

"God, does anyone have a comb or a bush or somethin'?" Brandy huffed, feeling a new tangle in her unruly hair.

"Yeah, let me get out my beauty kit," T-Dog joked as he walked past her. Brandy rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the arm. The tangles in her hair were driving her crazy. She tried to get them out by using her fingers, but she was only tugging on them.

"Come here," Carol said, waving her over. "Let's see what's going on here."

She started looking over Brandy's hair. In the months that passed, Brandy and Carol started getting along more, finding out that they happened to enjoy each other's company. They had been at odds with each other initially, but during the winter they found themselves talking more and more, being huddled up for warmth during the cold nights. All of the women got close, exchanging stories of boys and men they had been with and crushed on.

"How did you get so many knots in your hair?" Carol asked, as she tried to loosen them. Brandy flinched at the tugging on her scalp.

"I ain't comb it in like forever so it's starting to dread up. Just cut it out," Brandy huffed.

"No I almost got it," Carol said, finally detangling the matted area. "You doing alright?" she asked the young woman, who had scratched her head and was feeling around for more knots.

"Yeah, I'm good. This place is just a little creepy, ya know? Ah, can you get this one?" she asked. Daryl walked past the two women, giving them both an odd look.

"I didn't know this was a salon," he snorted. Brandy flicked him off and stuck her tongue out at him. He returned her gesture as he made down the stairs with his cross bow.

"Can I ask you something?" Carol asked, subconsciously braiding a little section of Brandy's hair like she had once done with Sophia.

"Shoot." Carol went to ask Brandy her question, but she was cut off by the sound of the cellblock slamming.

"Hey guys, lets get ready," Rick said, walking along side T-Dog, who was carrying some riot gear.

"Eh, I’ll just ask you when you guys get back." Brandy ran her hands through her hair, feeling the braid that Carol had done.

"Thanks," Brandy smiled, going to join the rest of the away group.

* * *

 

The other end of the prison was dark and smelled even worse; the smell of the dead was thick in the stale air. Brandy offered to go alone, just to survey how many walkers were down there, but the others would not have it, so she went along with them, opting to have her silenced gun ready instead of her machetes, just incase she had to kill something or someone in tight corridors. They pressed on down the hallway.

Brandy flashed her flashlight down on the ground for a second. She stopped when she saw a body. There were lots of bodies on the ground, but this one was different. It was ripped open from the gut, but there was no wound to the head. Brandy tightened her lip. It was possible that it had died from its injuries, but never woke back up as the undead. Not that it would have mattered, he was just an inmate, but it still bothered her. They turned another corner, and there they was a whole group of them, hissing and wheezing, their voices echoing down the walls of the hallway.

"Go back! Go back!" Rick yelled, and they ran, not paying attention to the white arrows they had spray painted on the walls for direction to the rest of the group. Brandy almost tripped on a body, but she quickly regained her balance. She thought she heard Maggie scream from where off in the distance. As soon as she went to turn around, she was yanked into a storage closet by Daryl.

"Where's Maggie and Glenn?" Rick asked the rest of them, keeping his voice at a whisper.

"I heard her scream," Brandy said sounding worried.

"We have to go back."

"Which way?" Daryl asked. They all looked at each other. Rick pushed the door back open; the walkers had wondered off. They all kept down the hallway, hoping they would bump into them. Suddenly, they heard Hershel screaming from another hallway, they ran towards the sound, to find him being bitten on the back of his leg. Rick shot the walker. Maggie and Glenn came running. They picked up the old man in an attempt to carry him to safety, all of the commotion alerting the Walkers, who came bumbling back towards them. Brandy covered them as best she could, shooting Walkers, but her aim wasn't very good in the dark. They all turned around and pushed back farther in to the prison. Brandy was running backwards, hoping her gun didn't jam, and praying to God that she didn't trip on anything. There was a locked door at a dead end. Rick busted it open. They all piled into what looked like a cafeteria. T-Dog secured the door with a tire iron. It wouldn't hold them back forever, but at least it bought them some time. Brandy took point by the door just incase they busted through. Hershel was bleeding, and Brandy wondered if there was any to save him. Rick pulled off his belt and tied a tourniquet above the bite wound. She could not believe what he was about to do. He picked up an ax and started chopping. She couldn't watch, closing her eyes tightly until the horrible squishing sound of the ax going through Hershel leg stopped.

"He's bleeding out," Rick stated. Brandy glanced around for anything they could use to put on the wound, when Daryl suddenly shot up with his crossbow ready, looking towards the other side of the café. Brandy was startled when she saw people. Not Walkers, alive people, on the other side of a gate, looking in at them. She raised her gun, ready to shoot. She knew this would happen.

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl asked the men. Brandy could feel her trigger finger itching as they emerged from the other room. She wondered if she shot the sketchy looking one in the wife beater in the head right now, how much the others would react. She held her fire only because they needed to get Hershel out of there, or he would bleed to death. The one in front drew his gun at them.

"Easy now, nobody needs to get hurt," Daryl said to him, and T-Dog raised his gun also, in response.

"You better put that shit down," Brandy said, not taking her eyes off of the man. She heard the others shuffling behind her. Glenn got a table, wheeled it out, and lay Hershel on it.

"Come on, we gotta go," Rick said. T-dog opened the door, and took care of the lone Walker that was trying to get in. Brandy and Daryl slowly retreated, both of their weapons still drawn on the inmates. She didn't want to leave them alive, but she had to pull back with the rest of the group. Down the dark halls they ran, Brandy running backwards, gun still drawn just in case they followed them.

And sure enough, they did.

"Rick?" Brandy asked from behind gritted teeth, waiting for him to give the order. Her silenced gun wouldn't alert any Walkers, and she had a clear shot at their leader, who was now headed towards them.

"No. Come on," Rick said. Brandy lingered just for a split seconded while the rest of them pressed on.

"Fuck," she hissed, following them.They made it back to the cellblock while Rick, Maggie, and Glenn got Hershel to the others. Brandy stayed with T-dog and Daryl outside of the first cellblock door.

"Brandy, we got it," Daryl said, looking over at her.

"Fuck that, I ain't letting them any where near the other women and Carl," she said, not looking at him, her eyes still focused on the sound of the voices that were coming down the hall. They stepped in and looked around. She didn't like the one in the tank top. His greasy hair and demeanor sending red flags through her mind.

"That's close enough," Daryl ordered. The man took a chance, and took another step.

"You heard the man, that's close enough," Brandy hissed.

"Cell Block C, Cell 4, that's mine, gringo. Let me in," he said, still moving towards them.

"Today's your lucky day fellas. You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You're free to go," said Daryl. The inmate took another step.

"What you got goin’ on in there?"

"Ain't none of your concern," Daryl answered. It was past the point of being a tense moment.

"Don't be tellin’ me what's my concern," the inmate said, pulling out his gun.

"Put it down," Brandy ordered.

"What you gonna do sweetheart?" he said, looking over at her, but still aiming at Daryl.

"Call me sweetheart again and see what fuckin' happens." She could feel her heart slamming in to her chest.

"It's alright, Brandy," Daryl said, trying to calm her down. He swore he could feel the fear rising off of her at his side. His words did little to comfort her. The inmates talked back and forth about leaving and seeing their families. How long had they been locked in that room? They finally said they weren't' leaving… This was going to be a major problem. Rick came running when he heard it get heated between the two groups.

"How long you've been locked in that cafeteria?" Rick finally asked.

"Like ten months," the one with the gun answered.

"Oh my god," Brandy mumbled. They didn't know. They didn't know anything. They didn't know that there was no world anymore. How do you explain that to a person who just crawled out of a locked room that there was no government anymore, no society, that everyone they loved or knew was most likely dead? These hardened men were in shock, speechless. They had asked themselves about their mothers, children or wives. Brandy wrinkled her eyebrow at the fact that she felt for most of them who showed emotion, minus the one with the gun. He didn't believe, so they showed him, leading them outside.

"Go back with the others," Daryl whispered to her as they made their way out of the cell block and into the sun, watching the prisoners reactions at the dead bodies.

She didn't say anything back to him; she just kept her eyes on the inmates. The men were talking back and forth, but Brandy wasn't listening. She was just thinking over and over again at what the men might have done to get sent to a prison like that. Murder, child abuse, rape... the thoughts made her sick. She had to draw her gun again. It was the one in the wife beater. He was really itching for a bullet in the head. Much to Brandy's disgust, Rick had struck a deal with them: half of the food in the café, and in exchange they would help clear out a cell block for them to keep to themselves. Inside, Brandy was screaming…

* * *

 

It had been way more food than they had let on; shelves upon shelves of canned goods, bags of bread chums, flour and oatmeal, the list went on and on and on. They got some food and brought it back to the rest of the group. Brandy had her hands full with all she could carry. Finally, they would be able to have a real meal tonight. Brandy walked back towards the cellblock door, checking her gun to make she was ready to go.

"Whoa, where do you think you goin’?" Daryl asked her.

"I'm goin' with you guys, I don't trust ‘em." Brandy said, expecting him to just accept it.

"No, they need you here. I think it would be better if you stayed with the rest of the group for this," he said. Brandy blinked at his words. She went to argue with him, but he cut her off.

"I don't want you getting trigger happy."

"I don't like the idea of you all going with them down some dark ass hallway."

"And what you want to follow us down there with these men? They need you here, we got this," he said putting his hand on her shoulder.

"This whole thing is fucking stupid. You guys need to take care of it, take care of it or they are just going to shoot you in the back when you're not lookin’," she said, her voice sounding shaky.

"Ain't gonna happen. They make one move, and we'll drop ‘em," Daryl said, letting his hand drop down her arm, touching her softer than he had meant to. He could tell by the look on her face that she hated the idea more than anything.

"Here," she mumbled, handing over her silenced gun. "Just incase you don't have time to load an arrow."

"Nah, you need it."

"Take the fuckin' gun, Daryl," she said, shoving it into his hands. "Don't be gone long… because I'll..." Brandy adjusted her sentence. "Me and Carol will worry." She smiled.

"Yeah, yeah," Daryl scoffed, before heading off with Rick and T-dog. Hershel's cell was already too cramped, and Brandy didn't want to crowd the poor man anymore then needed. They had already had a scare with him; he had stopped breathing, and to make matters worse, he had grabbed Lori while she was giving him CPR. Brandy had almost shot him, but the benefit of the doubt stopped her. He still didn't have a fever, and by now he would have been running hot it he was going to get one. Maybe Rick really had done it. Brandy looked around at the food they had collected. They had stacked it all in a cell for the time being. She picked up a can of tuna and looked at the expiration date. Maybe she should organize it, and put the food that would go bad first in the front, and the longest lasting ones in the back. Brandy heard a little bit of commotion coming from down the hallway, and she went to step out and see what was going, until Carl stormed into cell she was in. His father’s hat was low, covering his eyes, but she could tell something was bothering him.

"What's wrong, little Rick?" she asked, putting her hands in her back pockets and looking at the adolescent.

"My fucking mom," he swore.

"Woah, watch the cussin', kid," she said crossing her arms; she might have been able to taste the teen angst in the air. "Now, what's wrong?" The boy let out a sigh and leaned against the wall.

"Well, I knew we needed the medical supplies, so I went off to find the infirmary." Brandy blinked at his words.

"You went off alone? Holy shit, Carl, that's why your ma is mad at you."

"Yeah, well someone had to," he cut. He was right, but still. Brandy shook her head.

"Well, I get that but…you know the rules about ever going alone. Hell, I don't even do runs alone anymore," Brandy said, pointing out the long gash that cut itself down the side of her abdomen. It was a scar she had gotten in the springtime by jumping through a busted out window and catching herself on a rusty nail, all because she underestimated how many Walkers were around a house that she went to ransack for supplies. If the rest of the group hadn't been in the area, she would have died.

"Yeah, I remember that," Carl said, looking at the scar.

"See, no one’s mad that you helped, just be careful next time." She looked at him, and she could tell that something was still bothering him.

"Something else?" she asked, lifting the sheriff hat to see his face.

"…I miss Shane…" he said, looking down at the dirty floor. "It's all mom’s fault…" Brandy shook her head and knelt down in front of the boy.

"Hey, listen to me. No one here would ever admit this, but I'm going to. I didn't know you all back then, but your mama did what she had to do to keep you and her alive," Brandy said. Carl scoffed at her words, and rolled his eyes.

"By sleeping with my dad’s best friend?" he asked, Brandy was shocked at his mouth.

"Okay, ew. Number one, don't ever say shit like that again. And number two, yeah." Carl looked at her; he didn't understand what she meant. Brandy sighed and shook her head, thinking of a way she could explain it to him.

"Listen, Shane had told your mom that your dad was dead. He lied to her, so as a woman alone with child, she needed a man to protect her and you, its just nature. Your mom has done things to piss us all off at one point or another, but don't blame her for that."

"It's just… Shane would have liked it here… I wish things could have been different," he said looking at Brandy.

"There are lots of people that would have liked it here, Dale, Andrea, Sophia, but they're gone now. Please, don't blame your mom for what happened with Shane, he was a grown man and he chose his fate," she said to him. Carl huffed and nodded.

"You feelin' better now that you talked about it?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said. Brandy stood up and smiled.

"Good. Now, you can help me organize this fuckin' shit," Brandy said, waving over to the food that needed to be sorted.

"Why do you get to swear?" he pouted.

"Because I'm yo’ elder."

"Not by much," he argued.

"Six years, punk," Brandy said, playfully throwing a small sack of rice at the boy.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" he said, sounding a little shy.

"What?" she said, looking at the expiration date on a bag of dry milk.

"Do you think that… seventeen is too old…" Brandy's head shot up at the question.

"Old for what, you? Ew, yes. Wait, you have a crush on Beth," Brandy said, a huge smile growing on her face.

"Shut up, no I don't, it was just a question. And it's not that old, it's only four years," he said, growing slightly red.

"Carl, if this was the old world, that would be almost illegal," she laughed.

* * *

 

It was now dusk. Rick, Daryl, and T-dog had returned with the news that they had to kill two of the inmates, but spared the other two, setting them up in cellblock D. Brandy didn't say anything about how poor that choice was, not wanting to take away from the fact that Hershel had woken up, and was now stable for the time being.

Brandy decided to take a cell, seeing as sleeping against the wall wasn't good for anyone's back. She sat on the floor, sharpening her machetes, the sound of the blades on the grindstone lowly echoing through the cellblock. She heard a whistle at the door. She looked up to see Daryl standing there.

"Here's your gun back," he said. Brandy got up and brushed her hands off and took it from him.

"You're mad," he said. A silent Brandy either meant she was worried, or upset.

"A few days ago, you told me that you kill whatever inmates you guys found… for the safety of the group," Brandy mumbled looking up at him.

"Those guys ain't dangerous, and if they become a problem, we'll do something' about it." Brandy let out a huff at his words.

Daryl looked at her, making a mental note at how she had changed; she had to have lost about twenty pounds since they left the farm. She had lost all of the baby fat that she once had on her supple cheeks, which now had a slightly gaunt appearance. While her facial scars were still prominent, they were fading slightly. Her ribs were now visible through her dark skin, where they were once padded. It made her look like less of a girl, and more of a woman.

"And if there are more?" she asked, looking at him with her one good eye and her now fully blind one.

"Then we'll deal with them," he said. Brandy slowly nodded, still looking worried. Daryl scoffed as he looked at her.

"What?" she snapped. Daryl shook his head.

"Even when you are dirty and disgusting, you are still alright looking'," Daryl said to her. He knew what he meant by it, but it came out kind of rude. Brandy narrowed her eyes at his words.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment, because I'm pretty sure you just insulted me," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"What? We are all dirty."

"No, not that. You said I was ‘alright looking,’" Brandy said, doing air quotes. "You trippin? I'm fucking fine." She sounded like the cocky young lady that he knew all too well.

"I don't think this prison can house your ego," Daryl joked

"Fuck you, Redneck," Brandy said, rolling her eyes. Daryl chuckled and turned to leave her cell.

"See ya tomorrow, Rat."

 


	16. First and Last Days of Rest.

_**Previous Spring:** _

_They were unsure of what month it was, but it had to have been spring by now. It had been raining, and the smell of the muggy air hung heavy. They had spotted a house just off of the road. Brandy stood on the hood of her dented and dirty white AMX with her binoculars, scooping it out. She sucked her teeth and spat._

_"It clear?" Rick asked, watching the young woman jump down from her hood, her boots sloshing in the mud._

_"There's a few. Nothing I can't handle," she said, opening the chamber of her silenced gun and looking to see if she had enough bullets._

_"We'll go with you." Rick said._

_"No, that place is tiny. Too many of us, we'll be on top of each other, too much noise. I got it, I'll be back in a few," she said, walking off towards the house._ _As she walked away, Daryl looked at her. It always made him nervous when she went alone on runs, but she had done a few on her own since they had left the farm. Still, it made him worry._

_The house was an ugly shade yellow. The paint was chipping off of it from the harsh neglect of a world without people. There was a Walker bumbling around outside. Brandy killed it with little effort. The door was cracked open, never a good sign. Brandy pulled out her other machete; there was another one standing close to the door. It made no move to attack her, but she killed it anyway, and then slowly pushed the door open._

_Rick looked through the binoculars and saw a few Walkers coming around the right side of the house. He looked over at Brandy, who had just killed another that was coming at her through the doorway. The group of them must have seen her attack. She said that they only came after her when they saw she was hostile… being hostile meant she was alive._

_"Shit!" Rick swore, dropping the binoculars._

_Daryl sprung up at the look on Rick's face. From a few yards away, they heard Brandy scream, her yell cutting through the trees. Daryl, Rick, and T-Dog took off running towards the house. The rest of them looked on in worry. Glenn was holding up the binoculars and describing what was going on to the others._

_Brandy hadn't seen the Walkers that were creeping up behind her. By the time she realized it, one was in arm's length of her. She kicked it back, but it grabbed her by her boot. She screamed, and then chopped its head off._

_Their were ten of them, ten too many. They knew she was alive, and were coming at her like she was any other person. Brandy's immunity did have it's limit; she could die just like anyone else if she wasn't careful, and she had been sloppy and had gotten cocky._

_She took off running towards the side of the house. If she could get in, she could redirect them to a side window and she could take them out one by one as they tried to enter. She didn't want to run back to the group, just in case there were more lurking around somewhere that would follow. She saw a window with the glass busted out; she went so hop through it but she lost her footing on the side of the house, the old paint giving way and crumbling under her boot._

_She fell on the window seal and gashed her left side on an exposed nail, ripping the skin from just below her armpit to her hip. She fell into the room and crashed on to the hardwood floor, dropping both of her machetes out of her reach._

_She heard some of the group outside, but she was dazed by the pain she was in. She glanced down at the wound and almost passed out; it was deep, and spewing blood. She heard a hiss coming from the other side of the room. There was a Walker of an old lady hobbling towards her._

_She didn't understand. They normally only attacked when she was being hostile to them. Her actions of jumping through a window and causing such noise must have gathered its interest._

_Brandy didn't have time to stand up before it was on her. She lifted her knees and put both feet on the Walker's chest, keeping it off of her. It tried to scratch her, so she had to hold its wrists. She thought she was done for sure, until she saw the tip of an arrow pierce its way through the Walker's forehead._

_She kicked the Walker off of her to see Daryl hopping through the window._

_"Holy hell," he said, dropping his bow and kneeling beside her._

_The door to the bedroom flung open, and Rick and T-dog stood on the other end. Brandy was twitching in pain, trying to hold her wound as best she could. Rick looked at her, his blue eyes wide at the amount of blood she was losing. The red of it was glossing the wood floor._

_"We gotta get her to Hershel," Rick said._

_Daryl nodded and picked Brandy up off of the floor. She screamed at the movement, but there was nothing they could do to stop her pain in that moment._

_They ran out of the house, Daryl running ahead with Brandy in his arms. He could feel her twitching; she was clenching her teeth, and letting out painful grunts. Tears pooled from behind her tightly closed eyes. She was letting out curse words, one after the other. Her hands gripped on to his vest and she let out a muffled scream against him._

_"Oh my god," Glenn said, watching them get closer. He could she the blood dripping from Brandy, leaving drops on the tips of the tall grass._

_"What!?" Carol asked._

_"It's Brandy…" Glenn answered, looking again at the scene._

_"Is she bit?" Lori asked._

_"I thought they didn't attack her?" Maggie asked, all of them sounding worried._

_They got Brandy to the rest of the group._

_"Get her in the back seat!" Hershel said._

_Daryl placed Brandy in the back seat of the Hyundai. Hershel looked over at Carol, who he had taught a few medical things to._

_"Carol, I'm going to need you to do this one. That back seat is small and you can get back there better then I can," Hershel said and Carol nodded._

_"Hurry up, she's losing a lotta' blood!" Daryl yelled, kneeling down by the driver’s side back door, trying to calm her by holding her hand through the pain._

_Carol grabbed the medical bag and got into the back seat, straddling Brandy's sideways thigh to have enough room. Brandy was kicking because of the pain; Rick had to kneel down and hold Brandy's ankles to stop her from bucking Carol off._

_Lori ran over holding a half full bottle of whiskey. They had found it a few days ago, and didn't drink it just in case they needed to disinfect a wound. Brandy anticipated the burning by grasping even tighter to Daryl's hand._

_"It's going to hurt," Carol said._

_Brandy bit her bottom lip to stop herself from screaming, but Daryl used his other hand to cover her mouth. The whiskey bit in to her muscle like fire; the pain was white hot. She thought that all of the nerves in her body would shut down. She screamed from up under Daryl's palm. Her body tried desperately to get away from alcohol that was causing such pain, but she couldn't move. Daryl could feel her tears dripping on to his hand, her body shaking from painful sobs._ _Carol dabbed the wound and put as much pressure as she could on it._

_"She's lucky she cut through muscles. She could have severed an artery, and I don't think…." Carol started to say, until she looked and saw the look Daryl was gave her._

_Carol took Brandy's pulse when she saw her eyes close, and her face relax. Daryl removed his hand from her mouth and looked at her worried._

_"It's the shock," Carol said, counting her heartbeat._

_"Is she alright?" Rick asked, peeking in, still holding Brandy's ankles._

_"Yeah, she's in and out, but the bleeding is slowing down," Carol said, wiping her bloodied hands off on her shirt before readying the needle and thread._

_Daryl watched Carol as she dipped the thread and needle into the remaining whiskey to make sure it was somewhat sterilized. Brandy's eyes fluttered open._

_"Ah, fuck…" She mumbled, looking up and seeing the needle in Carol's hand._

_"I have to close it, there some bone showing," the older woman said, leaning in closely and driving the needle through Brandy's flesh._

_Brandy let out a sharp gasp and braced herself for the pain, digging her nails into the seat._

_"Push through it," Daryl said to her._

_She tried not to scream, instead biting her lip._

_"Don't you'll bite ya lip off," he said, but she couldn't help it._

_"Almost done," Carol said, pulling the thread tight._

_Brandy tried to squirm away, but she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. She could feel the alcohol-soaked thread making its way through her flesh._

_"Oh god. Just leave me," Brandy mumbled, knowing they were wasting time out in the open while they dealt with her._

_"What they hell are ya talkin' bout? Like we would leave you here to die," Daryl scoffed, taking her hand._

_"I'll be fine, you're wasting time," she said._

_"Shut up, girl," Daryl hissed, looking over at Carol, who was now securing the last stitch._

_"Done!" she said._

_Brandy felt Rick let her legs go, and Carol backed up off of her and got out of the back seat, her hands stained with her blood. Brandy tried to scoot her way out of the back seat, finally getting out feet first._

_"Whoa!" said Rick, lifting her up off of her knees._

_"I got it," she hissed, trying to stand._

_"No, you can't drive."_

_"I can't leave my car here," Brandy said, obviously dazed by the pain._

_"I'll drive it," Carol said, taking Brandy's arm and hooking it over her shoulder, helping her walk to her banged up car that she loved so dearly._

_"We need to go now," they heard Glenn say, looking off on to the distance and seeing a group of Walkers headed towards them._

_Brandy all but fell in to her passenger seat as Carol got in on the other side._

_"Please be careful with her… she's a classic…" Brandy mumbled as they left the area._

* * *

 

The morning sun rose in the sky, casting in its early light bright colors of orange. Brandy stood on the guard bridge that connected the C block to another block, her hands on the fence, fingers bent around the metal. She leaned back looking up at the sky, moving her mouth silently to herself.

The door to the C block opened, and Daryl stepped out into the bright morning light. He looked at her, her arms completely outstretched as she held on to the fence and gazed at the sky. She didn't acknowledge him at all, still moving her lips counting something. He walked up to her, about to speak, but she talked before he could.

"Today is June 12th, I think. And if so then it's my older brotha's birthday," she said. "It woulda' been… I think."

Brandy looked at him with a look of confusion. It was amazing how they lost track of time.

"What was he like?" Daryl asked, to make conversation.

Brandy scoffed out a small laugh, and shook her head.

"He was a fuckin' loser. You'd hate him, he was a thug, acted like a fool most of the time," she said, standing up straight and cracking her knuckles. "He did things like getting' mixed up with drug dealers, but he only did it so we could have extra money and shit. He got on my nerves, but he was brother and I miss ‘um."

Brandy looked down and snickered.

"He had these two nasty bitches causing all kinds of drama and shit, one was his girlfriend and the other was sayin' that he knocked her up."

She paused and rubbed her neck.

"Do you miss your brother?" she asked.

Daryl looked away.

"Yeah, well Merle wasn't the easiest son of a bitch to get along with… but yea' I miss ‘um," he said, looking out on the grounds of the prison.

They didn't speak for a few moments.

"What were you like? Ya know, before the world ended?" she randomly asked, turning and sitting with her back to the chain link fence, squinting her one good eye as she looked up at him.

"I don't know, I just..."

Daryl shrugged, becoming uncomfortable at question, trying to see if he could remember what he was like before it all happened.

"I kept to myself a lot, I didn't have that many friends an’ shit. I worked on cars here and there for some extra money… I didn't really have that much goin' for me back then," he said, feeling embarrassed at how that must have sounded to her. "Nobody wanted to get to know me, really, always thinkin' I was like my brother. I could never get away from the shit he'd done."

Brandy looked at him and she could see it; he did have that shyness about him.

"Whadda ‘bout you?" he asked.

Brandy sighed and leaned her head back.

"I was a fuckin' bitch," she said.

"Oh, and that's different now how?" he joked.

"Yo, fuck you! You think I'm bad now… you shoulda' seen my ass back then. I was that girl that all the other chicks wanted to be, or at least be in my clique, and all the boys wanted me. I was fuckin' horrible, I would just pick on other girls just because I could. If we had met back then I don't think we woulda got along," she said, picking her nails.

"Well, I didn't like you much when I met you either."

Brandy couldn't tell if he was joking or not. She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him.

"Shut up, Redneck," she said, with a smile, as she got to her feet and strolled back into the prison.

* * *

 

That day they focused on cleaning up the inside of the cellblock and trying to make it habitable. Rick realized that the group needed a little bit of rest after all the shit they went through in the last couple of days, and scrubbing blood off of the walls felt like a vacation to them. Hershel was doing okay, better than they had hoped; he was still in and out of consciousness because of the pain, but he was pulling though. Brandy and a few of the others had been down in the other hallways all day, dragging out the dead bodies and piling them outside. It took almost all day to clear them out. She was trying to keep count how many corpses they drug out, but she lost count after thirty-six or so.

"We'll get the rest tomorrow," Rick huffed wiping his sweating brow.

"How many more you think are down there?" T-Dog asked, looking over at the pile of rotting bodies that now sat in the setting sun.

"Shit, we gotta' whole other hallway to clean out," Brandy said, looking at the dead body of the inmate that threatened them lying limp at the foot of the pile.

"Damn it, carrying these sons of bitches out isn't an easy job," T-dog said, shaking his head and letting out a huff.

"Well, if we lucky there'll be a bunch of the really rotted ones. Those are light," Brandy said with a smile, not realizing how grim and horrible that sounded. Hoping that the dead would be so decomposed that it would make hauling them out to burn easier on them… sometimes Brandy found herself forgetting that those were once people, people who had loved ones and families. Now they were equal to roadkill, to the living.

 

* * *

"Hey Brandy, can I use your playing cards?" Beth asked Brandy, who was leaving her cell.

"Yea, they're in the front zipper of my bag," she said to the blonde, who smiled and nodded.

They had gotten lots of use out of those playing cards all winter. The women would huddle up with whatever blankets they could find and play any fifty-two card game they could remember, and when they got bored of that they would make up their own.

The cellblock was growing dark, with the sun retreating down behind the horizon. The lights had burnt out from the months of being on constantly on. They had all become rather accustomed to doing things by flashlight, or with the few candles they still had leftover from the winter.

Brandy walked past Lori's cell to see her sitting on her bunk with her head in her hands, letting out sniffles. Lori was always crying, for good reason. The guilt of what happened with Shane, the distance between her and her son, Rick's coldness, and being pregnant sometimes was too much for her, most nights. Brandy only grew concerned when she saw Lori grab her belly.

"Hey, you a’ight?" She asked peeking her head in to the cell door way.

"Yeah," She paused and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Hey, could you get Rick?"

"Sure," Brandy answered, making her way to the back of the cellblock where Rick was sitting in the watch box. He was keeping an eye on them though the glass.

Brandy knocked on the glass and then peeked in.

"Yes?" Rick asked, not even turning around to see who it was.

"Uh, your wife wants to talk to ya."

Rick left out an annoyed scoff at her words.

"What does she want?"

"She didn't say." Brandy shrugged and put her hands on her hips. "She's cryin'."

"Yeah, well when is she not crying?" Rick asked coldly, getting up out of the chair and walking towards the door.

"Just go talk to her or somethin' or she's gonna cry all night, and no one wants to fall asleep to that," Brandy said.

Rick didn't look he wanted to be bothered with Lori at all, but she couldn't blame him.

Brandy made her way to her original destination, walking down the short metal staircase to the entryway of the block where the common area was. She found Daryl sitting at one of the tables with a flashlight, cleaning his arrows. Brandy put her hands in her back pockets and tapped her foot.

"You busy?" she asked.

He stopped at looked up at her.

"What's it look like to ya?" He cut.

Brandy snickered.

"Well, I just thought I'd ask.” Brandy put her hands on her hips.

"Ya know, the guard towers are dark, a little secluded," she said, lowering her voice so only he would hear. She turned and walked away, switching her hips and glancing over her shoulder at him.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, let out a grunt, and followed her outside, hoping nobody noticed them slip away.

They got to the top of the tower. Daryl was going to say something to her, but Brandy cut him off with a forceful kiss, effectively shutting him up and making him forget whatever he was going to say. Brandy let out a giggle and pushed him down into the chair, almost causing him to fall before he caught himself.

"Watch it…" he said, but she ignored him, pulling off her shirt, throwing it at him playfully, and pulling down her shorts.

"What's with you?" he asked, feeling her straddle him and rock her hips in his lap, causing the chair to move back and forth because of the wheels it was on. He just heard her laugh as she worked on pulling off his belt.

"It's been a while," she purred, grabbing his cock,

Daryl bucked at the feeling of her touch. Brandy lifted off of him for a moment to allow him to pull his pants down just enough. She guided him into her, letting out a moan at the feeling that she had been deprived of for the last few months.

Daryl grunted and threw his head back as she bounced up and down on his cock. He grabbed her breast and leaned in to suck on her nipple. Brandy squeaked at the feeling of his mouth. Daryl grabbed her by her ass and took control of her pacing.

"I wanna….." Brandy whined, wanting to be in control at least once, but he wouldn't allow it.

"No. I don't get fucked," he grunted roughly, as he thrust into her slower then she would have liked it.

Brandy tried to go faster, but he held her in place. The chair squeaked and slid back and forth from their motions. Brandy let out a small chuckle.

"What ya'…laughin' at?" he asked, in between pants.

"The chair keeps makin' funny noises," she said, trying not to laugh again. "This chair has to have wheel locks or sumthin'."

"Not gonna stop to find out," he huffed, not being able to ignore the urge to slap her ass.

Brandy jumped and let out a surprised laugh at his actions.

"Stop laughin'," he said.

It sounding more like a direct order then anything else, but she couldn't for some reason. Brandy giggled, and then snorted.

"Wha' are ya', a little piglet?" he chuckled, at the sound she made.

"Shut up," she said, covering her face, embarrassed but still giggling.

Her laugh was breathy, but still cute to him nonetheless. Although he would never admit it to her out loud. He pulled her hand from her face and kissed her, slowly. Brandy let out a low moan at the feeling of his tongue grazing hers. She yanked away from him and shook her head.

"Wha'?" he asked.

"Nothin'… just keep fuckin' me," she said, ignoring how uncomfortable it had made her.

Daryl was about to say something, until they heard something. They both froze and listened. It sounded like people whispering and laughing as they made their way towards the guard tower.

"Sounds like Maggie and Glenn," he said.

"Oh fuck."

Brandy hopped off of him and searched in the darkness for her shirt, pulling her shorts back up, Daryl rushed to do his pants as well. The sound got closer, and then they heard the door to the tower open.

"Shit, they just hadda pick this tower," Daryl whispered, sounding a little worried. They could hear them coming up the stairs.

"I am okay, I got this," Brandy said.

The door flung open, and Brandy swore she could hear Maggie gasp, about to scream.

"Holy shit!" Glenn yelled, jumping back. "What the hell are you do doing in here?"

"Keepin' watch. What else would we be doin'?" Brandy lied, while Daryl kept silent.

"You scared the shit out of us," Maggie said, sounding flustered.

"Well, I see we in the way so… I'll be leavin'," Brandy said with a smile, as she and Daryl pushed past the two and down the stairs.

"They were keeping watch inside of the tower?" Maggie asked, feeling that the story didn't really add up.

Glenn shrugged.

"Eh, it doesn't matter. Now come here.”


	17. Not anymore, don't cry.

_Brandy looked around. She was back in her old house. She stepped in to the hall, and went down to the kitchen, but no one was there. There was only the blood all over the floor and walls, splatters of it, handprints and streaks, some it red, and some brown and dried. She was trembling, about to call out for her parents, when she heard a voice from behind her._

_"You just watched."_

_She felt a chill run up her spine. She turned around slowly to find her little brother standing behind her. His neck had a chunk missing, and he was bleeding all over himself, but he paid no mind to the fatal injury._

_"Why didn't you help me?" he asked his older sister._

_Brandy just looked at him. She couldn't make words. His brown eyes were like knifes that dug deep inside of her._

_"You would protect them but not me?" he asked._

_"No, I was scared! Chris, I didn't know!" she cried, running towards him and getting on her knees in front of him. "I didn't know! If I would have…."_

_She sobbed, looking up at him tugging his blood soaked shirt. He had no expression, no pain or sorrow; he was just cold, and disappointed in his sister, who begged in front of him for forgiveness that he would never grant._

_"No matter what you do, you'll be alone," he said._

_Brandy blinked, and when she reopened her eyes, they were there in piles. Her mother, father, her older brother, Rick, Lori, Carl, Carol, Hershel, T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie, Andrea, Dale, Sophia, and Beth. They were all lying there on the floor, half decomposed, with bullet holes in their heads._

_She heard a gargling noise, and looked up from the floor to see him. He stood there in his tattered angel wing leather jacket. He held on to one arrow in his hand. He looked up at her with white eyes, and rotted thick black blood dripping from his mouth. There was nothing left of him in there… nothing. He staggered towards her and wheezed._

_"No…" she said, shaking her head as her hand reached for her gun involuntarily._

_He slumped towards her, letting out a growl, his hands outward. He wanted to kill her. He was going to try to rip her open and eat whatever he could get his mouth on._

_She aimed for his head and pulled the trigger, and he fell backwards and hit the floor with a thud._

_"NO!" Brandy screamed, running over to his rotted corpus and crying as she held on to him._

_"Even him, he will die sooner or later. He will turn, and you'll be alone again. You know this… and yet you try," her brother said, still standing in the hall watching his sister let out painful sobs._

_"Daryl… god no, not you too," she cried, holding him and rocking back and forth._

_"You will cry when they die. You will watch them turn in front of you, and you will hate yourself. Is he…" her brother continued, walking up to her and looking down at Daryl's maggot riddled corpse in his sister's arms._

_"Is he worth the pain?"_

Brandy jumped awake, almost falling off her bunk in her cell. Her heart was banging against her rib cage. Her face was wet from tears, and she sniffled and put her head in her hands. She was unsure what time it was, but it was late still. The sun wasn't even up yet.

She felt sick. She could feel the acid in her gut jump around. She closed her eyes to try to count, hoping that would ease the fear, but when she did, she saw his dead face on the back of her eye lids. Brandy shook her head. She was sweating and her palms were clammy.

"God. Fuckin' hell," she said with a gasp.

She got up and put her hands on her head. She knew she wouldn't be going back to sleep, and she didn't want to wake the rest of them, so she gathered her weapons and stepped quietly out of her cell.

The sound of her scuffling towards the door caused Rick to wake up, and then Daryl.

"What was that?" Rick whispered to Daryl, who was sleeping on the perch.

"Someone whe' outside," Daryl said back, quietly, as he sat up and looking down the row of cells, noticing Brandy's normally halfway closed cell door wide open. "It was Brandy."

"Damn it, no ones supposed to go out while we're all sleeping," Rick whispered, sounding annoyed as he stepped out of his cell ready to go retrieve her.

"I'll go get her," Daryl said, standing up and shaking off his sleep.

He walked outside to find Brandy out in the courtyard, sitting at a one of the tables with her head low. She heard him approach, and she looked up at him, hoping it was anyone but him. He sat down across from her and rubbed his neck.

"Why you out here? You know we ain't supposed be out this late,” he said,

Brandy didn't say anything to him, keeping her eyes on the wooden table.

"You gonna' answer me?"

"I had a really…a really bad nightmare…" she said, looking up at him, tears making their way down her cheeks. She hoped he didn't see them, damn it.

"Just go on back to sleep," she said, looking away from him and getting up and going to walk away, but Daryl cut her off and stood in front of her.

"It's okay," he said.

He reached his hand up to her face and wiped away her tear with his rough hand.

"All got nightmares ‘bout this shit," he said lowly, running his thumb over her pouted lips.

The moment was still as they stood there in pre-morning darkness, just them and the distant sounds of walkers beyond the gates and fences. Daryl kissed her in that way she couldn't stand, making her feel vulnerable, yet safe with him there.

Brandy gritted her teeth pushed him away, her eyes wide, shaking her head. Daryl was shocked at her reaction, his mouth half open as he looked at her.

"No, just stop it. I can't do this," she said, sounding angry; not with him with wanting him to touch her, but because of how it made her feel.

She fucking hated it. She was in a conflict with herself, battling her emotions, becoming the torn woman she had promised that she wouldn't. She had been for a while, but it was never like this. That dream, her brother's phantom words, like a splinter in her mind. The only way she could save herself was to pull away from the thing that made her forget all of the pain for a few moments. She had wished he were like all of the other men that she had been with. They had all been assholes, or pansy motherfuckers, lacking any and all honor, using her just as she used them. But he was far from that. He was a good man, he was a damn saint.

"I'm gonna go watch the perimeter. Go back to sleep, and tell Rick if he wants to scold me fo’ breaking da rules, then he can come do it himself."

Brandy walked away from Daryl, leaving him speechless.

* * *

The sun had finally come up, and Brandy was still outside. She must have been around the fence about fifteen times now. She rubbed her face and looked at the Walkers on the other side of the fence. There was one bumbling around, but it didn't show interest in her. It was a woman, with curly red hair. Brandy wrinkled her eyebrows when she wondered what kind of life that walker had at one point in time. The sick thought of people that she knew turning into one of those things was making her crazy. In the future, would someone look at a Walker of one of them, and wonder the same before they killed it?

She looked over and saw Rick walking up to her. He sighed, and knew she was going to be in trouble with the Boss.

"We're all eating breakfast," he said, standing next to the young woman, who kept her eyes on the red headed Walker in front of her.

"When Daryl came back in early this morning, he seemed really upset," Rick added.

Brandy sighed and shook her head.

"It ain't anything," she said, hoping he would stop. "It ain't your issue."

"Well, I can't have the drama in this group," Rick started to say, but his words rubbed her the wrong way.

"Really, Rick? No drama? We have all been dealin' with you and Lori's drama for eight long ass months," she said, seeing the look that Rick gave her and knowing that she needed to keep talking before he went off on her.

"There ain't any drama with me and Daryl, it's just… we had an argument," she said, not wanting to say anymore. She was unsure if anyone knew or suspected their complicated relationship, and she would rather have them not know anything at all.

Rick put his hands on his hip and shook his head at her.

"I need you and definitely Daryl with clear heads, and no more sneaking out night. You know the rules," he said, sounding more like a father to her then he ever had.

"Yes, Rick," Brandy nodded, knowing that he was in charge and what he said went, and there was no argument.

Rick patted her on her shoulder.

"Come on you have to eat something," Rick said, and Brandy nodded and followed him back into the prison.

* * *

 

After breakfast, they all went outside. There was work to be done around the prison. Moving the cars, burning the bodies... it was going to be a long ass day ,but the shit had to be done.

"Where's Glenn and Maggie? We could use the help," Carol asked.

"They're up in the guard tower," Daryl said, pointing up at the same tower that him and Brandy had also been in last night.

He glanced over at her, but she quickly looked away and folded her arms, not wanting to think about the other night with him.

"They were just up there last night," Rick said, and Daryl yelled out to them.

Glenn walked out shirtless, fumbling with his pants. Even in Brandy's bothered state, she couldn't help but laugh with the rest of them.

"They don't got no shame," she snickered.

"You comin'?" Daryl asked Glenn, and they all laughed harder at its double meaning.

"What?" Glenn asked, sounding confused at what he was asking.

"You comin'?" Daryl asked again, and they snickered at the young lovers expense. "Come on, we could use a hand."

"Yeah, we'll be right down," Glenn said, sounding rather embarrassed.

Brandy shook her head. She couldn't believe them doing it in broad daylight.

Their laughs stopped when they saw the two prisoners walking towards them from the gates. The teams were clear; they were to stay away from the group at all times, and stay in their own cellblock. Brandy kept her hands on her machetes, just incase she needed them, as they approached.

They tried to plead their case, saying they couldn’t live in the other cell block anymore, that it was too much for them, but Rick stood his ground. Rick turned and looked at Daryl for an answer when it came to making that decision, and Daryl shook his head. Brandy almost let out an audible sigh of relief when they decided it was a “no” for now.

Daryl took them and locked them in the main entry gate. They all deliberated about the issue. To her surprise, T-Dog didn't like the idea of kicking them out and sending them on the road.

"If we send them off packing, we might as well kill them ourselves," he said, listening to the rest of their input.

Brandy didn't say anything. She had already voiced how she felt about it more than once, and she didn't feel the need to repeat herself.

"Those two might actually have less blood on their hands than we do," T-Dog added, looking at Rick.

"I get guys like this," Daryl started to say, and when he did, Brandy's head shot up and she glared at him.

"Hell I grew up with them. They're degenerates, but they ain't psychos. I could have been in there with ‘um just as easily as I'm out here with you guys."

Brandy couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"So you're with me?" T-Dog said.

"Hell no," Daryl answered "Let ‘um take their chances out on the road just like we did."

Rick stepped into the conversation, telling a story about when he was an officer, and a killer got out of a jail sentence because he suckered the jury, crying crocodile tears, and within two weeks he had killed someone else.

She couldn't agree with him more on sending them on their way. They would have to do what they had done and survive and find a place of their own, but they could not stay there with them. It might be a cold decision, but it was one that would keep them safe. Those men could have been good people, but the would never know for sure.

Brandy went with Rick, Daryl and Glenn went to get firewood. She hadn't talked to Daryl since their exchange early that morning. She stepped through the hole in the gate and walked behind them, watching a few Walkers across the tiny pond behind the prison.

"We should start makin' runs, the sooner the better," Daryl said.

"I can go do one today," Brandy said, finally speaking up.

"We'll do one tomorrow," Rick said to her, walking ahead with Glenn.

Brandy walked alongside Daryl. She knew she had speak to him eventually, but now wasn't the time for her to bring up anything personal. They had to focus on what the plan was for the day.

"What did you mean by 'I can't'?" Daryl asked, and Brandy tightened her jaw and wished he didn't speak. She let out a sigh and scratched her head, looking away.

"Nothin'. It was stupid. Just forget it," she said with a fake smile. She was almost sure he didn't buy it, but then, she couldn't distract him, knowing what an asset he was to the group.

They gathered the firewood and went to go back into the gate, seeing that Hershel was up and walking with crutches. It was a good thing to see, Brandy was surprised that he was up so soon and outside already. The moment was silent as everyone paused to take in a positive breath for a change. Hell, if he could get bit and have his leg amputated and come out alive, then maybe there was hope after all, for all of them.

But the moment came to a devastating halt when Carl yelled from the other side of the fence that there were Walkers behind them.

For a seconded Brandy thought she was seeing things. There was no way; they had secured the gates and checked them over and over again. But it was happening, and they took off running to get to the others. The sound of gun shots could be heard echoing throughout the grounds as they ran. There was no short cut. They had to run through the maze of chain link to get to the other side, Rick fumbled with the keys, trying to get the gates open as fast as he could. They got into the main courtyard, killing whatever Walkers they could. Hershel and Beth were safe behind a gated door. They said that Maggie had taken Carl and Lori inside.

"That gate didn't open itself. Someone took an axe or cutter to it," Glenn said.

"There's no one else here," Brandy said, growing more and more worried that there could have been someone in there that they might have missed. What if there were more prisoners?

Rick looked over at the two prisoners. He was about to do something to them, the look on his face... he would have killed them, until they heard alarms go off.

"What the fuck is that!?" Brandy yelled, looking around.

How could an alarm system been tripped? There wasn't any power throughout the whole damn place. The sound started to draw Walkers. Rick and Glenn took out any speakers they could find and Rick turned his attention to the prisoners. They found out that the alarms ran on back ups, powered by diesel, down in the basement. They had to shut them down. They all ran inside franticly, looking for everyone else. There was only a Walker in their cellblock.

"Lori! Carl!" Rick yelled.

"They must have gotten pushed back into the prison," Glenn said.

"Yeah, they wouldn't be able to take them out themselves," she said, hoping that all of them had met up, and that they would find them.

"Somebody is playing games!" Rick yelled, looking insane with anger. "We'll split up, and whoever gets to the generators, shut them down!"

Brandy went with Rick, Daryl, and one prisoner to find the generators. She was taking out every Walker that she could aim at. They were down the tight, cramped hall, coming for them as they made the mad dash to the utility room. Brandy tripped, twisted her ankle, and almost fell. She could hear Walkers only maybe about ten feet away from her. She felt someone yank her up off of the ground. Daryl held on to her hand as they made their way deeper and deeper down the hall. She was slowing them down, hobbling along as he pulled her, determined not to let her go.

They took a left and then took a right, losing most of the Walkers in the process, but they would eventually find them again. Brandy let go of his hand and pulled out one of her machetes, still holding her gun in one hand.

"Run!" she yelled, hearing the Walkers down the hall. "I'll distract ‘um, there's too many and we all won't make it!"

She turned and runs as best as she could, screaming and drawing attention to herself. Most of them were drawn to her as she took a left, hoping she wouldn't get cut off. She saw two of them eating someone. Brandy took them out and was horrified when she saw who it was.

T-Dog's body lay in the hallway, ripped apart. Brandy let out a scream at the sight. Her shriek could be heard all through the lower level. She heard multiple wheezes, and she had to keep moving, leaving her friend’s body there on the dirty floor.

There were so many of them, even she couldn't chance it in such tight corridors. She hid in a janitors closet, crying. She felt sick. She was unsure of how long she was in there, but she didn't hear the alarms anymore, so they had made it that far.

What if they hadn't made it after that? What if they were all dead? What would she do? She couldn't stay here alone, it would drive her insane. She couldn't drag them out and bury them. She couldn't clean up their blood.

Brandy wiped her face and knew she had to go out there. She pushed open the door and walked down the hall alone. This time she didn't encounter any Walkers. She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe they were all too busy feasting? She pushed open the door to the cellblock and went outside, hobbling because of her ankle, but determined not to let it impair her.

She looked up and saw them. But not all of them.

Daryl looked up and saw her. He had thought she was dead for sure, hearing her scream, but there she stood, looking shaken up but alive. Rick was giving orders to go back and look for the others, Maggie, Carl, Lori… until there the a sound that none of them had heard since the world ended: the sound of a baby crying.

Maggie held the baby in her arms and came out with Carl, out a gate that lead into part of prison, but there no Lori with them. Everyone froze, watching Rick walk towards them, dropping his axe to the ground. Maggie was crying, and Rick was pacing, shaking his head and saying his wife's name over and over again. He looked over to his son for an answer, and Carl didn't look back at him. Rick broke down.

"No… no… no…" he kept saying, over and over again.

He had been so strong. He had gotten him this far, but he couldn't weather this, and they knew nothing would be same ever again.

****  
  



	18. Daughter

It was surreal, the sound of Rick and the baby crying, their voices echoing and matching up in a way that seemed impossible and like something out of a dream. He fell to his knees, his eyes fixed on nothing. They were all in shock, but Daryl was trying to snap Rick out of his catatonic state. It didn't do anything at all. His mouth still gaped open, his blue eyes wide.

"Let me see the baby," Hershel said, and Carl brought her over to him.

"Whatt'a we gonna feed it?" Daryl asked. "We got anything a baby can eat?"

"There's powdered milk," Brandy said, walking over to see newborn. Hershel shook his head at her words.

"The good news is she looks healthy, but she'll need formula soon or she won't survive," he said, looking over at Daryl.

"Nope. No way, not her," Daryl said, keeping his eyes on the baby and slinging his crossbow holder over his chest. Brandy looked up at him, surprised by his paternal instants. "We're not losing anybody else. I'm going for a run."

"I'll back you up," Maggie said.

"I'll go too," Glenn added.

Brandy went to open her mouth to volunteer as well, but it was cut short.

"Beth, Brandy," Daryl said, getting the two girls attention. "The kid just lost his mom, his dad ain’t doin too hot." He was addressing the young blonde.

"I'll look out for him," she said, nodding.

Daryl looked over at Brandy, who was awaiting any type of order he gave her.

"I know you wanna go on the run, but I need you here. With me Glenn and Maggie out you need to stay here and hold it down. Can you do it?" he asked, taking her by her shoulders and looking her in the eyes.

"Yeah, yes. I can," Brandy mumbled. "Daryl, please come back."

She didn’t want to stay, but she knew her place was there in that moment.

"I will," Daryl said, noticing worried tears starting to form behind her eyes. She shook them off before they fell.

Just as they were about to leave, Rick shot up and grabbed his axe, and headed off into the prison alone. Maggie yelled after, but he ignored her. Brandy thought about going after Rick, knowing that if he died down there, Carl would have no one, but the babies cries snapped her back. Rick was a grown man, he knew the risk of going off alone, and that baby girl and big brother were Brandy's main concern now.

Brandy made her way to her cell, grabbing open her backpack and looking for a rag. She found a cleanish tank top and decided it would work. She ran back down the stairs to the common area where the others were. Carl was holding his sister. Brandy ripped the shirt and grabbed a half empty bottle of water, and soaked it.

"Here, let me see her," she said, and Carl handed her the child. Brandy started to wipe the blood off. "We got any extra clothing? If they don't find diapers, we'll have deal with the cloth ones.”

"I don't think we have anything," Beth said, stepping to Brandy's side and looking at the newborn, who was crying.

"Poor thing's cold," Brandy mumbled.

When she was finished cleaning her off, Brandy wrapped her snuggly in the shirt they had carried her out with and handed her back over to Carl.

"Hey, Doc. Can I speak with ya for a moment?" Brandy asked Hershel.

"Sure," he said, and she helped him up.

They walked away, out of earshot of Carl and Beth, and Brandy folded her arms nervously.

"You're a doctor," she started

"Well I'm a vet."

"Close enough. Listen… I was thinking… Oh shit, this sounded way less creepy in my head, but..." she said, stuttering over her words. She finally let out a huff and spat it out. "Okay, so what if they don't find any formal for her? I have a medical question."

Hershel had a feeling of where she was going with this.

"Is there a way a woman who’s not pregnant could breastfeed?" Brandy said, feeling obligated to ask just in case there was. She was unsure, but remembered something about how midwives used to feed the children instead of the mothers.

"Yes, it's possible," Hershel said, and Brandy was surprised. "It was very common in the olden days. Noblewomen would have their wet nurses feed the babies, and when… when mothers died, someone would have to feed them."

"Okay, good because that's what I'll do If I can… I owe that to Lori," Brandy said, feeling strangely relieved that she could help with what little she had.

"It's a lot of commitment, and you might not produce enough," he added. Brandy shook her head.

"No, I gotta try. We gotta keep that baby girl alive no matter what," she said.

She had never felt this way, Not even for her own little brother. That baby was hope, not just for them, but for humanity, and she would be damned if she let that little girl die.

Glenn hadn't gone with Daryl and Maggie, and had been down in the innards of the prison looking for Rick. Brandy looked up from the table and saw him coming from the door that led to the rest of the prison. He had a shocked look on his face as he walked past them. Brandy got up and went over to him.

"Where is he?" Brandy asked, keeping her voice low, not wanting to worry Carl with the fact that his father was still MIA. "Did you find him…?"

Glenn just nodded, not looking at her.

"He's alive," he finally said, looking down.

"Well, where he at?" she asked, looking at Glenn's expression.

"He doesn't want to come up," he said. "He's not right."

Brandy blinked her eyes and looked over at Carl and the baby girl in his arms. Brandy understood Rick's pain for Lori, but he still had a son and a baby girl he had yet to hold.

"He needs to bring his ass back up here," Brandy said, gritting her teeth, pulling out her machete, and walking away from Glenn, headed towards the door.

"Brandy, don't," Glenn called out to her, but she had already made her way to the door.

"Someone still gotta go get whatever's left of T's body, I'm not just gonna leave him down here. I'll drag ‘um out my self," Brandy said to Glenn, before heading out and closing the door.

Her voice was harsh; she was thinking about the children's who's father was down there somewhere, not caring for them. Carl needed to grieve with his dad. They needed to cry together, but instead, Rick was somewhere else, leaving the boy in the company of others when he needed his father.

\--

The halls were silent. Most of the Walkers had been killed off. Brandy tried to remember where T-Dog's body was, but she wasn't sure she going down the right hallway. It all looked the same, dim and dark over and over again.

Unlike Rick, Brandy and Carol had talked to Lori. She knew that Lori had tried to speak with Rick on the possibility of her death while giving birth, and all he had done was shut her down and ignore her, time after time, because he was “doin' things”. But she and Lori had those talks for months. Lori felt relieved she could talk to someone over the different possibilities. What if she died during childbirth, but the baby was still alive? What if she tried to attack Rick or Carl or even the baby? Lori had even brought up the question of what if she was immune like Brandy… what if the baby was? The mulling over these questions from months had prepared Brandy for the idea that Lori might die in childbirth, and she knew Lori was okay with her death as long as her baby would be fine. If Rick hadn't been so bitter, if he hadn't been so cold to her over what happened with Shane, he would have known her wishes.

Brandy stopped when she saw a figure down the hall. She narrowed her eyes and thought it was a Walker, but she quickly realized that it was Rick. He was just walking down the connecting hallway.

"Rick," Brandy called after him.

He stopped and looked up at her. He looked like he had lost his mind, and Brandy decided not to approach him, knowing that if Glenn couldn't snap him out of it, she couldn't.

"You do realize that you still gotta son and a newborn, right?" Brandy said, her words coming out before she could catch them, not thinking about Rick's pain but only thinking about those children.

Rick didn't say anything. He just stood there, looking at her. They had all lost people, but they knew that the living were the ones that still needed them.

Brandy shook her head and kept down the hall, leaving him there. She remembered all those times Lori would cry, punishing herself for what she had done with Shane, crying because Rick didn't want to be anywhere near her. And now that she was gone, he wanted to act as if he had treated her well those eight long months… maybe it was his guilt coming up to the surface.

Brandy finally made it to T-Dog’s body. There wasn't much left of him; most of his middle section was gone. His eyes were still open, Brandy shook her head, bent down, and closed his eyes in an attempt to give him some dignity. She went to drag him out by his legs, but she stopped when she saw something on the floor.

It was Carol's headscarf. She picked it up and looked around. There was no body. Brandy wrapped the scarf around her hand, and pushed open a nearby door just off the hallway.

"Carol….?" Brandy asked, listening for any kind of noise, but there was nothing.

She shut the door, feeling that something was very wrong. She let out a sigh and continued on her job of getting being T-Dog ready for burial.

\--

Maggie and Daryl made it back to the prison after nightfall. They had scored a few things for the baby. She had been crying all day, until Daryl had picked her up out of Carl’s arms. Brandy was surprised when she saw how he was with her; the smile on his face as he feed the baby girl was something Brandy thought she would never see from him. His toughness had melted away in those moments with little baby girl Grimms in his arms. It was a relief to know that even though Lori was gone and Rick was indisposed, that baby would have more love then she would know what to do with, especially from her 'Uncle Daryl'.

Brandy laid down in her cell with her arm over her eyes, slipping in and out of sleep. She heard a whistle at her cell door and looked up to see Daryl.

"Is she sleepin’?" Brandy asked.

"Yeah, Maggie rocked her to sleep," he said.

Brandy scooted over and Daryl sat down on the edge of the bed. They sat there in silence for a few moments before Daryl looked over at her and noticed the headscarf that was still tied around her wrist. It was the same wrist where she kept the star bracelet that she had meant to give it to Sophia, but she had never gotten the chance.

"Where'd you get that?" Daryl asked, touching Carol's scarf. He remembered picking it up and then throwing it back down on the ground when he realized what had happened to her.

"I went down there to get T-Dog's body and I found it," she said, looking at it. She sat up on her elbows. "Ya know, if she got bit when T-dog did… we woulda seen her Walker by now. But when I was down there I didn't come across her Walker or body…"

She looked down at the scarf. Daryl wrinkled his brow at her words.

"Brandy… if she was still alive, why didn't she come back to the cell block?" Daryl asked, not wanting to get his hopes up by her words.

"Shit, this place is a fuckin' maze… she might still be down there. No one’s dead until ya see their body or Walker," Brandy said looking at him. "We at least have to find her body so we can giver her the burial she deserves."

She lay back down and played with the thin bride that Carol had braided in her hair a while ago. Daryl let out a huff. He couldn't help but feel that Brandy was in denial over Carol's death, knowing they had become very close over the winter.

"Ya know… you I always thought that you and Carol would be good for each other," Brandy randomly said to him.

"Pssf, you're so strange," Daryl said to the young woman.

"Why is that strange?" Brandy asked, flipping over on her side and propping her head up on her hand.

"You thought this even though you and me were fuckin'?" Daryl asked, and Brandy shrugged and plopped back down.

Their conversation went cold again for a few moments until Brandy spoke.

"How much formula you got?" Brandy asked.

"Two cans, it ain't gonna last long,” he said, sounding worried.

"Maybe not," Brandy said. "I talked to Hershel about if a woman could… breastfeed a baby that's not her's… and that is a possibility.” She cringed at her words, waiting for his answer.

Daryl blinked at what she said. It would have been very strange if the world hadn't ended, but it had, and he understood. It was a selfless thing to offer. To feed a child that wasn't yours was a thought that the Brandy that he had met a year ago would've never entertained. Daryl thought about saying something, about how she had changed into a better person, but what came out after his shrug was..,

"Might as well get some use outta those big ol' tits," he said before catching himself.

Brandy playfully pushed him.

"Ya know, you have a habit of sayin' shit and I don't know if it is a compliment or an insult," Brandy said, rolling her eyes.

"What? It's the truth," Daryl said, glancing over at her large chest.

"Oh fuck off," she hissed, and crossed her arms.

 

 


	19. Pavements

Daryl looked at Brandy from across the common area as she held the little baby girl that was wrapped in the pink plush blanket. She had a smile that he never seen before on her face. Normally they were smirks and sneers with intent for jokes behind them, but this one was different. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't look away from her. She was humming a song that he didn't know, but whatever it was, it was pretty. The little baby reached her hand up and tugged at one of the plastic stars that was one Brandy's bracelet. Daryl let out sigh at the sight, and noticed that Brandy was wearing Carol's headscarf that she had found down in the prison after she went missing. That only made the moment worse for him, as he felt a ping of sadness for the woman they lost, and remembering how much she was excited for that baby.

Brandy looked up at him, her eyes meeting his for a moment. She raised her eyebrow, but only smiled more at his stare. It was a single moment of innocence in the silent cellblock. Brandy looked back down when the baby tugged on a lock of her long frizzy hair, and continued to hum to the newborn.

"Hey Brandy, how's it coming?" Maggie asked Brandy. Brandy blinked before realizing what she was talking about.

"Oh, not too good…" Brandy said, sounding uncomfortable. "I thought stimulation would make more milk, but it ain't not working very well."

Carl made a strange face and looked up at the young woman.

"Wait… milk for what?" he asked, sounding a little frightened at the answer.

"Well, we need a backup plan just incase we can't find formula for her," she said, shifting her weight.

Carl's eyes widened and he tensed his face.

"You can do that? Gross…" he said.

Brandy let out a laugh and shook her head.

"It was common, before modern medicine. It doesn't always work though…" she said, looking back down at the child.

Daryl noticed a quick expression of disappointment that ran over her face as she looked at the child, her eyes glancing over to the half empty formula bottle that sat on the table next to her.

Brandy had offered to go with Maggie and Glenn out on a run, but they insisted that they would be fine alone. She couldn't help but to feel like she was slowly becoming less of a force within the group. With the baby there, Lori dead, and Carol, gone someone had to become the 'mother hen' of sorts. She really didn't like the idea of taking on that role, but that is what they needed her to be right at that moment in time. She couldn't help but feel horribly defeated at the fact that she wasn't making anything but 'witches milk'. What if they couldn't find any formula for her? What would they do then?

Hershel did tell her that the likelihood of her making enough to sustain the child was slim at best, but it was still a hope that she was desperately clinging too. For the past three days she was trying to stimulate, but nothing was happening. Damn it, she wished they would have prepared more for the baby… they all knew that it was a possibility that Lori could die during childbirth, but that thought really didn't sink in for all of them until she was really gone.

Brandy snapped away from her thoughts when she saw Carl and Oscar return from down in the prison without Daryl. She got up off her bench quicker than she intended when she realized he wasn't with them.

"Where Daryl at?" she asked, her eyes glancing between the young boy and the big man, and then down at the baby that was in her arms, who just let out a coo.

"He stayed down there for a few," Carl said.

"Yeah, I think he wanted a few moments alone or somthin'," Oscar said, looking down at a pair of slippers in his hand. Brandy wondered where he found them, but she was quickly back on the initial topic.

"He can't be down there by himself," she said. "Hey, Beth. Can you hold her?"

The younger blond nodded and came over and took the baby from her arms. She grabbed her machetes off of the table.

"I gotta go get ‘em," she said, making her way to the cellblock door.

The halls were eerily empty. There weren't very many bodies at all. Most of them had been cleared out by now, but the stink was still lingering in the thick but cool air that the lower level had. Brandy looked around a corner and saw him sitting against the wall, dragging the blade of a knife on the cement floor, and leaving white lines where it scratched.

"Daryl," Brandy said to him.

He didn't react.

"Daryl, why ya down here by yourself?" Brandy asked, putting her hands on her hips and looking down at him

"I found her fuckin' knife," he mumbled.

Brandy looked down. It was Carol's knife.

"You still think she alive, huh?" he added, sounding angry.

"Until we find her body or her Walker, she ain't dead to me," Brandy said, trying to make him feel better in her own way, but it didn't go over well.

"How fuckin' naïve can ya get?"

"I ain't fuckin' naïve or stupid," she said, her attitude flaring up slightly.

Daryl got up and glared at her, pacing back and forth like an animal in a cage.

"Will ya leave me alone?" he yelled at her, knowing the only reason he had was because she was the only person that he could take out his anger and grief out on in that moment.

Brandy went to inhale to say something to him, but he cut her off before she could.

"You right, lots of good people ain't like you," he said, before realizing the words that had just left his mouth and how hurtful they were to her.

He saw the look on her face. It was stricken with shock for a moment. She couldn't believe he would bring up her immunity, knowing how she felt. Knowing the guilt she carried with her everyday. But the shock was quickly wiped away with anger. She didn't say anything to him, not a "go to hell" or "fuck you, Dixon". There was nothing. She just turned around and walked back down the hallway.

There was no one in the cellblock when she got up there. She slammed her machetes down on the table and sat down. She thought about going back down there and giving him a piece of her fucking mind for what he had just said to her, but instead she gritted her teeth and reached over to a can of baby formula to see how much was left in it.

Her hand touched the can, tipping it over. It was empty. That was the moment when everything hit her all at once. Lori was dead, Carol was dead, and the baby would die, either due to Walkers or starvation. Daryl's words sticking in her mind like a thin splinter that could not be reached. He was right, she was being naïve. She had kept hope alive, feeling that if she never truly saw the dead then they might still be out there. Her older brother might still be out there, her mother might still be out there. But Daryl was right. Brandy went to lower her head, feeling tears well up, but before they could, she was startled by the sound of the cell door banging open.

Her head shot up, and she saw Daryl walk through the door with someone in his arms. It took her a moment to realize it was Carol. Brandy shot up and almost tripped, her foot catching on the leg of the table, but she caught her self.

"Oh my god!" She squeaked, running over to them. She couldn't believe it. She was really alive.

Brandy didn't say anything, only nodding towards the door that led into the cell area. Brandy pulled the door to her cell open, and Daryl placed Carol on her bottom bunk. Brandy pulled open her backpack and grabbed a bottle of water out.

"Here, drink this," she said, removing the cap and pouring it into Carol's mouth.

She was really dehydrated and weak, but Brandy couldn't see any bites on her. Brandy bit back tears as she hugged Carol.

"I knew you weren't dead," she said, in between sniffles.

Daryl remembered how Carol had been when Brandy almost died during the spring. She had cared for the young woman, nursing her back to health as best as she could, and now, although Carol wasn't in that bad of shape, Brandy was willing and eager to take care of her. Carol reached her thin hand up stoked Brandy's hair; she looked down when she realized that Brandy was wearing her headscarf, she smiled warmly at the young woman. Daryl leaned against the doorway and looked at the two of them.

"I'm fine," Carol said softly, as she sat up on her elbows.

"Ya sure? You could use some rest," Brandy said, noticing that Carol still seemed a little dizzy.

"Don't worry, I'm okay, really," she said, looking at the teary-eyed young woman in front of her.

"Thank you Daryl," she said, looking up at him,

"No problem," he grunted.

They heard a commotion in the common area. Brandy stood up and stepped in to the hallway.

"We'll be right back," Daryl said to Carol, as they made their way down the hall.

Brandy was still wiping tears of joy from her face, but he knew that she didn't want the others to see her cry.

"Rick," he said, grabbing their leaders attention.

Rick was kneeling in front of a woman that they had never seen before.

"Who the hell’s that?" he asked.

Brandy didn't say anything, only putting her hands on her hips and surveying the dark skinned woman who lay on the floor. She looked frightened, but could still possibly be a threat. Rick asked her for her name, but she didn't say anything, only glaring at him. Rick picked up her katana and told her that they would keep it safe, and that they could treat her wound that she had on her leg.

"I didn't ask for your help," the woman said, breaking her silence and sounding rather unappreciative.

Brandy wasn't sure what happened, but she knew they had saved her life. The others shuffled by after Daryl told them that he had something to show them, but Brandy stayed outside of the cell door that separated the common area from their cellblock, just encase that woman tried something.

"I want my weapon," she said, struggling to get up.

"Well dat's too damn bad," Brandy answered on the other side of the cell door. "Rick will return it when he feels like it."

"He's your leader?" she asked, sounding angrier than she should about the idea of one man leading a group.

"Ya, and what he says goes. So you just gonna have to wait," Brandy said, as she pushed some of her hair behind her ear.

The woman glared at her, narrowing her dark eyes.

"What happened to your face?" she asked, as if she was entitled to an answer.

"None of yo’ business," Brandy cut. She had grown used to people not asking her what happened to her. The group was used to her scars by now, and Oscar and Axel stared at her at first, but never opened their mouths to ask.

The rest of the group returned from greeting Carol. Brandy scooted off to the side and let Rick unlock the door, and they all entered. She pulled out her machete, just in case.

"We can give you water and a little bit of food, and send you on your way, but you are gonna have to tell us how you found us," Rick said, stepping in front of the nameless woman. "And why you were carrying baby formula."

"The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy… with a pretty girl," she said.

Brandy tightened her grip on her handle and then glanced over at Daryl.

"What happened?"

"They were taken," she said.

"Taken by who?" Rick asked, sounding more and more worried.

"By the same son of a bitch that shot me."

Rick didn't like how slow she was giving information. He grabbed her by her wound. She jumped up, but her sudden movement only caused Brandy and Daryl to raise their weapons on her.

"You better start talkin' or you’re ya gonna have a much bigger problem than a gunshot wound," Daryl said, with his cross bow raised to her head.

"Damn right," Brandy agreed, with her blade just shy of the woman's neck.

"Find ‘um yourself," she said.

Rick tried to calm the situation that could easily get blown out of hand.

"Put it down," he told Daryl, motioning for Brandy to do that same. She reluctantly did. The woman looked around, and then decided to speak.

"There's a town, Woodbury… about seventy-five survivors. I think they were taken there. It’s run by this guy who calls himself the Governor."

Brandy couldn't believe it. A whole town? It didn't sound right. Either this woman was making this shit up, or something was too good to be true.

She agreed to lead them in so they could get Glenn and Maggie back, but Brandy didn't feel right about it.

"Where ya goin?" Daryl asked Brandy, as he watched her look in the chamber of her gun as she walked over to the car.

"Pssh, where ya think? I'm goin' with you guys," Brandy said, looking at him. "Mama hen is back, so back to doing what I do best."

She glanced over at Carol, who was holding the baby in her arms.

"Mama hen," he snickered at how actuate Carol's nickname was. "Hey, I'm…"

Daryl paused as he looked at Brandy, shifting his weight and feeling uncomfortable.

"Spit it out," she said, putting her gun back into its holster.

"Aw hell. Look, I'm sorry for what I said to you down there…."

Apologizing was not something he had ever been good at.

"I know it's a painful subject for ya and I shouldn't have said anything ‘bout it."

Brandy smiled and shook her head.

"Daryl, I'm pretty sure we all have thick skin from being around ya so much. But you're the sweetest dick… I have ever…"

Brandy paused when she realized how that was sounding.

"Hmm, that came out a lil' wrong."

"Yeah it did."

Daryl chuckled and shook his head at her.

"I know how ya mean it… in both ways," he said, with a cocky smile and an eyebrow raised with self confidence that only she could being out in him.

"Shut up," Brandy said, rolling her eyes at him and walking away.

* * *

They were on their way. They had to park the car and walk the rest of the way on foot through the woods. It was an easy hike at first, until there were Walkers coming from everywhere.

"Holy shit," Brandy mumbled to herself, as they closed in on them.

There were too many for them to take, and they had to run, cutting through the words as fast as they could. The found a shack and went in.

"Ew, somethin' died in here," Brandy whispered, covering her nose.

The stench was coming from a dead dog that was lying in the corner of the room.

"I guess Lassie went home," Daryl said.

Brandy rolled her eyes at his morbid joke and shook her head. The Walkers were banging on the doors, trying to get in.

"We betta' figure out a plan," Brandy said, knowing they didn't have much time till the door would be busted down.

"What's that?" Rick whispered, seeing that there was a blanket and something was under it.

"Why is this like a horror movie?" Brandy mumbled to herself as Rick slowly went to pull the blanked off of whatever it was.

Brandy almost screamed when a man, a living man, popped up holding a shotgun. He was screaming and yelling for them to leave his house, only drawing more attention from the Walkers outside.

"Shut him up," Michonne said, from behind gritted teeth.

"Get outta my house or I'll call the cops!" he yelled.

"Are you retarded?" Brandy whispered.

Rick tried to reason with the man, and then when that didn't work, he grabbed the barrel of his gun and yanked it away. It went off and almost shot Daryl's head off. There was a scuffle, and the man bit Rick's hand and ran towards the door. Just as he was about to open it, Michonne thrust her sword through him.

"Okay, he's dead, but they are still gonna kill us!" Brandy said, watching one of the wooden boards on the door bust off from the force of the Walkers pushing against it.

"Pick him up," Rick said, glancing over to Daryl. "Michonne, get the door."

They both picked the man up and flung him out of the door as soon as it was open, and then slammed it shut. The back was clear, so they snuck out. They could hear the Walkers feasting on his body, the smacking of their lips and the sound of them ripping into him.

They finally made it to the town by nightfall. It was protected with men with guns guarding the walls. She had faced off against a herd full of Walkers when they had to run from the farm. She had faced off against some of the worst kind of men the world, but this was different. This was almost an army of men, who could think, who were armed to teeth. These people had kidnapped some of their own, and they couldn't let them get away with it. This could end many ways, and in almost all of them there was the chance that some of them might not get to see another sunrise.

Brandy knew that this might be her last night alive. She knew that they could all break in there and be gunned down like it was nothing. She looked over to the man at her left. He was watching the guard wall intensely, waiting for Rick to give an order, as he always did. Brandy reached out for him, touching his arm softly. He looked over at her, and in that moment he was sure he understood what her eyes were saying to him. They didn't need to pass any words between each other.

****  
  



	20. Gravemakers and Gunslingers

They were creeping their way in, following Michonne into the compound. It was dark and they had to be silent. If they were caught, they would be killed, for sure, and their cause for going there would fail. Who knew if Maggie or Glenn was even still alive?

They crept in to an empty storeroom. Michonne had said that she was questioned there by the Governor. They peeked out the window; there were people still out on the streets.

"I thought you said there was a curfew," Daryl asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"The streets are packed during the day. Those are stragglers," Michonne said.

"Fuck, we can't stay in here," Brandy grunted.

She didn't really trust Michonne. She was saying things that weren't adding up. Maybe this was a trap. Brandy would for damn sure keep an eye on her.

"They might be in his apartment," Michonne said.

"We ain't got time for ‘might’ and ‘maybes’, lady." Brandy said, stepping towards Michonne, keeping her hand on the trigger of her gun. It was clear that the others were questioning her as well.

"You said you could help us," said Rick, looking Michonne up and down.

"I'm doing my best."

She gritted her teeth at him. Rick narrowed his eyes and nodded for the others to follow him for a moment.

"If this goes south we're cutting her lose."

"We should just do it now," Brandy whispered.

"Right now it's the blind leading the blind," Daryl said. "We should split up."

Before Brandy could protest, they heard someone knock on the door. They scattered, hiding behind a curtain.

"I know ya in here, I saw ya movin from outside," he said, looking around.

When he got closer, Rick jumped him and shoved a gun in his face. Daryl zipped-tied the man’s hands behind his back. He said he didn't know where Maggie and Glenn were. Brandy believed him. He looked like nothing more than the community maintenance man, but they didn't take any chances, gagging him and knocking him out.

"Come on," Rick ordered, leading the way. They stayed out of the reach of the lights atop the fences, keeping close to the wall.

"Over there, that looks like a warehouse," Daryl said, pointing to their right.

"What if they ain't in there?" Brandy asked, holding her AK-47 tightly against her chest.

"That's where they kept the kept the Walkers," Michonne whispered.

"We have to go in there," Rick said, pushing on along the wall.

They slipped into a back door and ran down a dirty hallway of the warehouse. They stopped when they heard talking. The sounds were muffled, but there was a tiny window that looked on to the other side. Maggie and Glenn were there, with bags over their heads and guns to their backs. Daryl readied a flash bang and threw it as they were leading them out. The choking smoke filled the room, giving them just enough time to grab Maggie and Glenn and run out. Their captors started to fire on them, but they were already out of the door by the time they could see. Brandy yanked the bags off of their heads so they could see. They sought cover in an unlocked building.

"Ain’t no way out back here!" Daryl said.

"Shit! We gotta come up with a plan, they gonna be lookin through every house for us," Brandy panted, peeking out the window.

"Where's that woman?" Maggie asked.

They looked around and Michonne was gone. Brandy wasn't worried about her at all. The only people she had to worry about were her own. Brandy tried to think of a way out, but Glenn's voice distracted her.

"Daryl, this was Merle," he said.

Brandy looked over at him and then to Daryl. She thought that Daryl's brother was dead.

"He did this. I saw him face to face. He threw a Walker at me."

Daryl was shocked. He couldn't believe what Glenn had just said.

"So… my… brother's the Governor?" he asked, his eye wide.

Brandy kept looking at him; his eyes were glancing around nervously even as the others continued to talk.

"Come on, we gotta go," Rick said, helping Glenn up, and finally Daryl spoke.

"Hey, wait, if Merle's around I gotta go see ‘um." His tone was completely different than it had ever been. It had lost its roughness, now pleading to see his only remaining family.

"No, not now, we're in hostile territory," Rick said, stepping towards Daryl.

"He's my brother, he ain't gonna-" Daryl tried to beg, but Rick wouldn't have it.

The look on his face was wrenching, and Brandy understood every bit of it. She would have given anything in the world to see her brothers again, and that very thing was being denied to Daryl at that exact moment. But look what his own flesh and blood had done. He had kidnapped Glenn and Maggie, and if they hadn't gotten there sooner, he would have killed them.

"Daryl, I need you," Rick said, looking at Daryl. "You with me?"

There was a pause, and at first Brandy thought Daryl would abandon them for his own blood. He nodded.

"Yeah, I'm with ya," He finally said to Rick. Brandy let out a small, relieved sigh.

"Daryl, I'm glad you stayin' with us, but we need to find a way outta here and fast," Brandy said, shifting nervously from side to side. She didn't even want to imagine the shit that this Governor would do to them if he got his hands on them.

"I'll send out a few flash bangs, get ready to shot," Rick said to them.

Brandy checked her magazine and made sure she was ready for a fight. They all crouched down by the door, huddled close, waiting for Rick's signal.

"One, two, three!"

Rick pulled the door open and Daryl threw the flash bangs out into the street. When there was enough smoke they snuck out, keeping tight formation. One of the guards on the gate turned around and saw them. Gunshots rang out. Brandy pulled the trigger or her AK, ignoring the kick that slammed in to her shoulder. She hit one in the chest and he fell off of the fence. A bullet flew past her head, just missing her.

"Go! Take cover!" Rick yelled, pointing to an alcove of a building.

"You guys go ahead, I'm gonna lay down some cover fire!" Daryl said.

"No, we gotta stay together!" Maggie protested.

"Daryl, no, you can't go out there alone!" Brandy begged, looking at him.

"Don't worry, I'll be right behind you," he said, trying to reassure them.

"I'm comin' with you! I ain't letting you go alone!"

She wouldn't have it. Brandy gripped her gun tightly. Daryl saw the look on her face. She had made up her mind, and he couldn't convince her otherwise. She crept out right alongside him. He threw out a flash bang, and she shot at whatever moved through the smoke. She knew there was a possibility that she might hit a civilian, but at this point she didn't care. Both of them took cover behind a bench, aiming at any smokey silhouette that was in front of them. There were gunshots narrowly missing them. Daryl shot one of the guards and dropped him; his aim was better than hers. She had hit one man in the arm, but it didn't stop him from continuing to shoot at them.

"Daryl! Brandy!" they heard Rick yell behind them, but they didn't stop shooting.

"Brandy go, I'll cover you!" he yelled at her.

"No! I said I ain't fuckin' leavin' you!"

Just then Daryl almost dropped his gun and let out a groan.

"You alright!?" Brandy asked, glancing over at him.

"Yeah, it just grazed me," he said.

Suddenly he heard something hit her head from the back, and she slumped forward. He thought she had been shot, but before he could react, he heard the sound of some slamming into his skull, and it went black…

Daryl let out a grunt and his eyes rolled open. He was propped up against a wall. He was in the warehouse where Maggie and Glenn were being held. He tried to move, but his hands were tied behind his back. The pain in his head was throbbing. He shuffled his feet on the ground, but his ankles were tied as well.

"Fuck…" he grumbled, as he looked over to this right and saw Brandy lying on the floor. She was tied up as well.

Her hair was matted with blood and her mouth was hanging half open. He couldn't tell if she was alive or not.

"Brandy."

He called her name and watched for face for any signs of movement.

"Brandy, god damn it! Get up!" he said, growing more and more concerned that her head injury had done more then knocked her out. "Please get up…" He sniffed.

Brandy wrinkled her brow and let out a pained grunt.

"Daryl…" she whined, peeking her eyes open to see him.

She tugged on her arms but she couldn't move.

"Is you hurt?" she asked him, as she tried to undo the binds that held her ankles together.

"Just my head," he said. His voice was shaking.

Brandy looked up at him, and didn't see the face of the defiant man that she had grown to know. For the first time, he was scared. She had never seen that look in his eyes. Vulnerable, like a young boy who was about to be beaten by his fathers hand… not knowing if one blow would be the one to kill him. He had been strong all this time. He had showed no fear when he had shot his bow at her, when they first met. He showed no fear at the CDC, or when he had ran off to find Sophia, or when the farm went up in to flames, or the months they had been on the run. Daryl was fearless to her, an unstoppable force, but his strength was gone then.

"Daryl… we'll get outta here," Brandy said, nodding her head.

He had been strong for all of them. He had saved her life more than once, and she knew that he needed her in that moment. She had to be strong, even though she wanted to cry and scream. She knew that it was her turn to be the fearless one.

The door opened and both of them froze. Three men walked in. One of them was holding Daryl's crossbow.

"Lookie here," one of them said, before he closed the door and locked it.

He looked over at Daryl, pulled out a knife, and walked over to him.

"I see the resemblance," he said with a laugh, no doubt talking about Merle. He lifted his knife and sliced Daryl across the cheek with it.

"Don't fuckin' touch him!" Brandy yelled. She would not lie there and let them torture him.

The men all looked over at her and let out laughs, mocking her bravery. They turned their attention towards the young woman, who tried to shuffle away, but one of them grabbed her by her bound ankles and yanked her closer to him.

"Oh wee, you are a cute one," he said with a smile, looking down at her. "What's yer name, honey?" He licked his lips.

"None of yer fuckin' business," Brandy hissed.

He balled up his fist and socked her in her face.

"Stop it!" Daryl yelled, but they ignored him, all of them focusing on Brandy, hovering above her like vultures that saw prey.

Brandy felt blood pool in her mouth from the blow. She could hear them laughing at her.

"She's hot," one of them said.

"Yeah, but I wished we woulda been able to fuck the other one," another said, making reference to Maggie.

Brandy couldn't help but feel rage run through her. She lifted her head and spat at them, hitting one in the face with it.

"You fuckin' bitch," he said, hitting her once again.

"Leave her alone!" Daryl yelled, his voice cracking. Brandy's attacker looked over at him.

"Is this your bitch, huh?" he asked, snatching Brandy by her shirt and lifting her up.

Daryl shuddered at how she looked, her face bruised and bloody.

"She is isn't she? I bet this makes you really mad," he chuckled, looking back down at Brandy and grabbing her face tightly. "Just imagine how he's gonna feel when he watches what we're gonna do to you." The other men laughed at his words.

"What… you gotta rape women because nobody would fuck yo ugly ass willingly?" Brandy cut.

Daryl was shocked at her defiance of them. The man pushed her over and put his boot on the side of her head.

"So you think you're funny, huh?" he asked, as the other men snatched at her clothing. One of them had a knife and was cutting her shirt off, purposely nicking her with the blade on her back.

"No! Stop!" Daryl yelled, trying to pull out of his binds, but it did nothing.

"We'll have you screaming like a little piggy!" one of them said, gathering a “seweee!” pig call from another.

"I won't give you da satisfaction," Brandy said, as best as she could with a boot on her face.

They yanked her shorts down, and Daryl couldn't watch. He turned his head and closed his eyes tightly. He couldn't protect her. Her story about how she was almost raped the first week out on her own came back to him. This was her worst fear, and it was happening right in front of him, and he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.

There was a bang at the door. The men stopped just shy of violating Brandy. One of them hurried to the door and yanked it open.

"Their ready for them," the messenger said.

The main aggressor zipped his pants back up and leaned over Brandy.

"You're gonna watch him die, and after that you’re gonna wish you could join him," he whispered to her, before putting a bag over her head.

Brandy felt them cut the ties at her ankle and stand her up. One of them pulled her shorts back up, after taking a moment and touching her. She felt them bush her out of the door, and she felt someone next to her. Brandy knew it was Daryl. She could hear his rapid breathing as they staggered, being lead by the Governor’s men. And in that moment, she was just happy that she got to feel him again, maybe for the last time, even if it was just her shoulder brushing against his arm. She was grateful for just that.

They were outside now. She felt the summer breeze on her skin and the gravel under the soles of her shoes. She heard someone talking in the distance, and as they got closer his voice became clearer.

"I'm afraid a terrorist would want what we have! Wanna destroy us! And worse, because one of those terrorists is one of our own!"

The voice had to be the Governor. There was a gasp from whatever crowd was listening to his words.

"Merle! The man I counted on, the man I trusted! He lead them here!" the Governor continued.

Brandy's heart was racing, banging in to her chest. She was confused by what the Governor was talking about.

"It was you lied! You betrayed us all!"

Brandy felt the warmth of Daryl's body be pushed away ahead of her, and a few seconds later she was pushed too, but this time she felt a gun at her back.

"This is one of the terrorist, Merle’s own brother!" the Governor yelled, and the bag was removed from Brandy's head to see an arena. The Governor had Daryl by the arm, and there was another man standing there as well. It had to be Merle. The listeners let out gasps at the sight.

"What should we do with them, huh!?" he asked his people, and they yelled, "kill ‘um!" and "to the death!" like wild animals lusting for blood sport.

"No!" Brandy screamed, going to run towards them, but she was yanked back and the gun dug deeper in to her back ribs.

"Daryl! No, please!" she screamed, knowing that her begging wouldn't be heard.

Her eyes fell on a blonde that sat in the front row of stands. She couldn't believe it. It was Andrea. She was right there, and alive at this place that had taken some of her own, and now was ready to kill them, in league with monsters. Brandy knew that if they saw the next sunrise, she would never forgive her…

**  
**


	21. Leave me sour.

Brandy's throat hurt from screaming so much, screeching his name over and over again, but it really couldn't be heard over the bloodthirsty crowd that was screaming for violence. She looked over to Andrea, who was being held back from saving Daryl as well. The Governor started to speak.

"Winner goes free, fight to the death!" He said, and the crowd grew even louder.

"NO! Daryl!" Brandy yelled, trying to fight out of the grasp of her captor that held her back, but it was no use.

It felt like the only thing Brandy could think of was the memories they had, and how horrible to watch him die by his own brothers hands would be. She couldn't watch it. He had saved her so many times, he had saved them all, and now when he needed someone, it was helpless. She was helpless.

Both of the brothers looked at each other, Daryl no longer the tough man she had grown to know. Now, he was like a deer being thrown to the lions.

"Ya'll know me! I'm gonna do what I gotta do!" Merle said, before swinging and punching Daryl in the gut, effectively dropping him to the dirt.

Brandy let out a low sob as she watched.

"To prove that my loyalty is to this town!" Merle said, kicking Daryl in his side.

He didn't fight back, why wasn't he fighting back?

"Daryl, get up goddamn it!" Brandy screamed, when she saw them leading Walkers into the ring.

She couldn't watch, it was too much. She would watch him die there, either gutted by a Walker or beat to death by his own flesh and blood, and then they would kill her… or worse.

Brandy suddenly heard gunshots, and then was pushed to the ground as her captor pushed past her to take cover. She coughed when she hit the ground and got a mouth full of dirt. There was smoke everywhere, too thick for her to see through. Brandy tried to yank the ropes away from her bound wrists, but she could only feel it biting through her skin.

"Daryl!?" she screamed, before choking on the smoke. "Daryl!"

Right when she thought he was gone, she felt someone yank her up off the ground by her shirt and stand her up on her feet, pulling her from the yellow haze of fog. It was Rick and Maggie. They had come back for them. Brandy knew that if they hadn’t, it would have been their end.

Brandy ran with the rest of them out into the street, arms still bound behind her back.

"A little help, please!" she panted.

Maggie turned around and pulled out her knife to cut the rope. Merle found an exit through one of the gates.

"Come on, lets go!" Merle said.

Brandy paused and looked at Rick, expecting him to lift his gun and shoot Merle where he stood, but he didn't, so the continued to run.

* * *

 

The sun was starting to rise, and they had been running through the woods, trying to find where Glenn and Michonne were with the car.

"Glenn," Rick said in a hushed voice, when he thought they were close.

They heard Glenn answer back when he heard them. He sounded so relieved they were alive, but the happiness was quickly gone when Glenn and Michonne saw Merle. Weapons were drawn and voices were raised. After all, Merle was the one that beat Glenn half to death.

During all of the yelling, Brandy noticed that Daryl had a handgun tucked under the waistband of his jeans. He must have picked it up during the entire chorus at Woodbury when they escaped. Brandy reached for it, and as soon as it was in her hands she pointed it right at Merle's head. Daryl turned around and lifted his crossbow to her.

"Brandy! What the hell!? Put it down!" he yelled.

His finger wasn't on the trigger, but hers was.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Sugar tits, no need for that," Merle said, looking at her.

"Don't fucking call me that!" Brandy screamed.

"Brandy listen, you need to put it down," Rick tried to reason with her.

"Really? You want me to put it down for this motherfucker?" she asked.

"Watch it Brandy," Daryl said, looking her dead in her eyes.

"He deserves to die," she simply said.

"I've shot you before and I'll do it again," Daryl threatened, and at his words Brandy swore she felt the ghost of the sharp pain of the injury that brought them together more than year ago.

Daryl moved his finger to the trigger.

"A shot in the arm ain't a walk in the park."

He was serious. He would shoot her. Brandy gritted her teeth and slowly lowered the gun.

* * *

 

Brandy sniffled and leaned on a near by car as the others talked. She wasn't in the right mind to help make decisions with the group. She couldn't stop thinking about had happened after her and Daryl were knocked out, about what those men would have done to her. Brandy heard Maggie yell Daryl's name, and she looked up to see him walking away from them. He was leaving. Why was he leaving? Brandy chased after him.

"Hey!" she yelled, running in front of him and halting him. "Where the fuck are you going?"

Daryl looked at her for a second before speaking.

"I gotta go. I can't chose you guys and not my own brother," he said lowly.

Brandy's eyebrow twitched before lowering into an angry scowl.

"Are you fucking serious?!" she yelled. Rick hushed her, but she ignored him. "You are just goin' to leave us? For him?!"

Daryl looked away from her.

"He's my brother…" Daryl mumbled. He swore he could see the betrayal fall on Brandy's features at his words.

"You saw, you saw what his own men were going to do to me…" she choked out.

Rick, Maggie and Glenn all glanced at each other at her words.

"It wasn't him though," Daryl tried to say.

"He was the Governor's right hand man! Those men, those men that beat me and tried to rape me, were his buddies!" Brandy screamed, tears of rage filled her eyes.

Daryl tightened his lips at the sight of her. Her face was still battered and swollen from what those men had done to her.

"You don't understand, what if it was your brother?" Daryl said.

Brandy gritted her teeth at his words and pushed him.

"Fuck you! How dare you twist that knife!" she screamed.

The others only looked on confused. Daryl grabbed Brandy's wrists as she went to slap him.

"Brandy… calm down. Please," he said to her.

Merle watched the whole exchange from the tree he leaned up against. Brandy tried to yank away, but he held on to her tightly, forcing her to listen to him.

"Take care of Carol, she needs you," he said, his words giving seriousness to his decision. "Asskicker too."

Daryl let her wrist go once she calmer. She dropped her head and refused to look at him, the tears in her eyes making it hard for her to see.

"You be good, Rat," Daryl said, going to lift her head up by her chin, but Brandy swatted his hand away and gritted her teeth.

"I hate you," she hissed,before turning and running back to the car, not wanting to watch him walk away.

* * *

 **  
**Brandy didn't talk to anyone when they got back. She didn't even care to acknowledge the new people that Carl had found in the unexplored wings of the prison. She didn't even check on baby Judith when they got back. She wanted nothing to do with anyone. **  
**

Brandy sat in her cell, rummaging around in her backpack. Her eyes were red from crying, but she had stopped sobbing and now was only enraged at him. She wished she could turn her brain off, because all it was doing was replaying memories she had with him.

He's an asshole, he betrayed you all, stop thinking about him.

She tried to tell her self, but no matter how much she tried she couldn't kick the thought of him out of her mind.

"Fuck him," Brandy mumbled to herself, as she pulled open a pocket of her backpack that she had forgotten was there. She reached in and pulled out a hand full of Polaroid pictures, and a sad smile came to her lips.

They had stumbled across a storage facility during the spring and stayed a night there. They all took the opportunity to scavenge for supplies, and Brandy had found an old Polaroid camera in a plastic bin that still had shots left on it. Brandy got the bright idea to start snapping pictures of the group. Brandy flipped through the bent pictures with a sad smile, even though they were hungry and worn out. They looked remarkably happy in those still shots in time. There was only one of Rick, and he looked less than thrilled about a flash going off in his face. One of Maggie and Beth hugging each other with smiles on their faces, another of T-Dog giving thumbs up. One of Brandy with her head to Lori's plump stomach.

The smile dropped off of Brandy's face when she came to the next picture. It was of Daryl. He was caught of guard when she snapped it, but it was a perfect capture of him. Brandy sniffed and then flipped to the next picture. It had to be her favorite; it was Daryl looking rather annoyed as she and Carol tried their best to make him uncomfortable with silly facial expressions. She chuckled to herself as she went to flip to the next one, only to realize that she was back to the start of the pile and that there was one missing. She remembered vividly Lori taking one of Brandy and Carol, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, can I come in?" Brandy heard Carol ask from her cell door.

Brandy shoved the pictures back into her bag and nodded. Carol walked in and had a seat on the lower bunk.

"You doing okay?” Carol asked her.

There was a pause before Brandy answered.

"I hate him," she said simply.

Carol sat down on the floor next to the young woman, who kept her eyes down.

"Don't say that, Brandy… he had had his reasons for leaving."

"No, he betrayed us. After all we have been though, he left us for his piece of shit brother."

Brandy choked back tears and gritted her teeth. Carol looked at her battered face and busted lip.

"What happened at Woodbury?" she asked, knowing there was something more to Brandy's anger.

She didn't speak at first, only rubbing her black eye.

"I tried to protect him…"

Brandy looked down and started to pick at her nails.

"We both got captured, and he looked so scared, and they were gonna hurt him." She sniffed. "I couldn't let that happen, so I let them hurt me."

She stopped, not wanting to go into the details, but Carol got the just of what she meant.

"And then after all of that he just leaves as if none of us mean anything."

Carol looked down; she understood Brandy's feelings.

"So if he comes crawling back here he won't be a friend of mine."

**  
  
**

Daryl walked ahead of Merle through the woods. His older brother would not shut up. Daryl could feel a headache start to form because of Merle's constant yapping. Daryl reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wrinkled photo of Carol and Brandy. He had taken it from Brandy's bag while back. He glanced at it. Both women looked beautiful in their respective ways. He wanted to remember them forever like that…

 


	22. Met me half way.

_Spring:_

_They had to find somewhere to stay for the night. It was getting late and Brandy needed to rest after her injury that sliced itself down the side of her torso. There where a few small homes that lined the country road. They stopped at one, and Carol pulled Brandy's classic AMX into the driveway behind the others. Daryl, Rick and T-Dog cased the house to make sure it was safe and clear of Walkers, and when they gave the signal, they all started to unload their stuff._

_Carol tried to help Brandy out of the car, but Daryl rushed over and picked her up. Brandy cringed and let out a hiss when she felt a painful pinch from in between her crude stitches. She was too weak to even hold onto him as he walked through the house, feeling like dead weight in his arms._

_Daryl walked down a narrow hall and to a small bedroom. The decor was obviously for a young girl at one point in time. The white bed still had light pink sheets on it, empty picture frames on the white wooden nightstand. There was clothing thrown about the room that looked like would fit a girl who had just become a teenager. Daryl slowly placed Brandy down on the bed. She tightened her eye closed at the pain that shot through her body._

_"You need to rest," he said, looking down at the long gash she had down her side. It resembled many scars that he had, but had gotten under very different circumstances._

_"Where… where is Carol?" Brandy asked, looking up at him. She looked pitiful, teary-eyed and with her bangs sticking to her forehead from sweat._

_"I'll go get her," he said, walking out of the room and into the living room where everyone else was._

_Carol was setting up her sleeping arrangements for the night when she heard him call for her._

_"Carol, she's cryin' for ya," he said._

_Carol stopped what she was doing and rushed off to comfort the young woman._

_The house had grown dark at night, the only light coming from few candles and flashlights they had. Daryl walked down the hall and peeked into the dim bedroom to see Carol sitting up on the bed with Brandy's head on her lap. She was stroking Brandy's head and humming to her. Daryl was aware to the fact that he was staring at them, but he couldn't, nor did he want to, look away from them. Carol looked up and was surprised at his form in the doorway._

_"Oh. You scared me," she whispered._

_"Sorry…" Daryl mumbled, walking in to the room. He sat down slowly next to Carol, trying not to disturb Brandy._

_"How is she?" he asked._

_"Resting for now, she's still in a lot of pain… poor thing," Carol said, looking down at the young girl. "She's really beautiful…" Her tone was hard to place._

_"She's alright," Daryl grunted. Carol smiled and shook her head._

_"You too are close," she said._

_Daryl grunted and folded his arms._

_"She gets me." He paused and looked at Carol. "But she's not the only one…" Carol smiled back at him._

_Daryl woke in the early morning, still on the bed with his back propped up against the headboard of the bed. He looked down to see Carol's head resting on his chest. Brandy had one of her arms out stretched towards him, and had her fingers intertwined with his. Both of them were sound asleep, and there was a peace that Daryl hadn't felt since the mornings on the farm. Daryl wanted nothing more than to never move from that bed and to have those few seconds last the rest of his life._

* * *

 

Brandy rubbed her sore jaw as she stood around with the others in the common area as Glenn drew out a map of the prison in white chalk on the floor. There was a portion of the prison that was compromised from outside damage, and Walkers were finding their way in.

"If the whole front of the prison is unsecured, if Walkers can just stroll in, then it's gonna be a kick for a group of armed men," Glenn said. The tension in the room started to build.

"Why are you sure he's gonna attack? Maybe we scared them off?" Beth asked.

"He had fish tanks full of heads, Walkers and humans as trophies. He's comin'," Michonne said from the corner, causing everyone to look over at her.

Brandy shifted uncomfortably. Glenn wanted to go, he wanted to retaliate that night. The Governor wouldn't see it coming and they could end it. Michonne agreed with him, only needing to silently nod her head at the idea. But before anything could be planned Hershel stepped up, hobbling forward on his churches.

"He wasn't expecting you last time and look what happened. You were almost killed, Daryl and Brandy were captured…" His calm explanation of the events dug at Brandy causing her to let out a bitter scuff.

"Captured, man that word just doesn't do it justice," she said.

Everyone looked over at her.

"No, The Governor has men that have no humanity. Look and me and Glenn," she said, pointing to her still swollen face. "When I refused to let them harm Daryl, they beat the shit outta me. When they were done with that, they decided to cut my shirt off, taking extra care to cut my skin with the knife."

"Brandy…" Hershel said, but she kept going.

"Then they pulled down my shorts and sexually assaulted me with every intent of raping me."

"Brandy that's enough," Hershel said, trying to calm her down and seeing the horrified faces of his daughters.

"NO!" Brandy's voice echoed though the cellblock. "That is what we are dealing with!" She looked around at them. "You guys remember Randal?"

The name causing uncomfortable looks from the others who were at the farm.

"Thirty men with guns? I can bet my life that that little shit was from Woodbury," she said from behind gritted teeth. She looked over at Glenn.

"If you go to Woodbury, I want to go. I have a score to settle with three men," Brandy said, before walking out of the common room, leaving shock and worry in her wake.

* * *

 

Brandy made her way across the yard to the silver truck that Glenn was loading up to take to the far side of the prison. She walked past Hershel, who was standing there looking worried.

"Glenn!" Brandy said, jogging up to him before he got in the truck. "I'm comin' with ya." Brandy held up her hand to block the sun from her eyes.

"No, I got it," Glenn huffed.

Brandy had never seen him look so angry before. It was as if the young man that he was had been was lost, and he left a part of himself back at Woodbury. Brandy put her hands on her hips and looked at him.

"You're gonna go on a run to the far side where it is crawling with Walkers, alone?" she asked, causing Glenn to let out a sigh. "This kind of run is what I do best, and if I stay here all I'm gonna do is keep relieving shit in my head so… I'm comin with you."

"Fine, whatever," Glenn huffed, before getting in the truck.

Brandy looked back over at Hershel before going over to the other side of the truck and getting in. Carl opened the gate and let the car though.

They drove in silence for a bit, driving through the large property. The silence was broken when Glenn spoke up.

"So…you and Daryl."

"Me and Daryl what?" Brandy cut, sounding bitter about the subject.

"You were close."

Brandy scuffed at his words and looked down at her hands that were in her lap.

"We are all close."

"Yeah, well not like you and Daryl… and Carol."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Brandy said, looking out the window. She heard him snicker slightly. She looked over at him and raised her eyebrow.

"What's funny?" she asked.

"Nothing, just..." He paused for a second. "Back at the farm, me and Andrea had this bet that you guys would become a thing. I guess I won."

Brandy let out a small laugh as the car came to a stop. They looked around to see what was going on in the front of the prison.

"There," Glenn said, pointing over to an open door.

"Yeah, there are bound to be some bumbling around in there," Brandy said, readying her machetes.

They took care of the ones outside quickly enough. Killing walkers had become second nature. Now if only the living would act right. Brandy flicked her blade off and looked over at Glenn.

"On to the next part?" he asked.

"Piece of cake."

They made their way to the far door that had been pushed open by a few Walkers. If they could close it and lock it, it should hold up.

“Can I ask you something?" Glenn mumbled, looking over at her.

"Yeah."

"Does Carol know about you and Daryl?"

Brandy tightened her lips for a moment before speaking.

"She knows, it's complicated…."

"Yeah, most things these days are," Glenn said as they reached the door and stepped in.

She wasn't sure how long they had been gone, but they were making progress down in main hall. They had to have killed more than twenty since they started. Suddenly they heard something. Brandy whipped around after dropping a Walker and looked at Glenn.

"Was that gun shots!?" she asked, and then the sound rang out again.

"Fuck!" Glenn yelled, running back out and through the door that they came in. They ran back to the truck and got in.

Brandy was sure he'd flip the truck as fast as he was driving. She didn't know what happened. The fence was busted open and there were Walkers all in the main yard.

"What the fuck!?" Glenn yelled as they saw a white truck skid out and fly past them.

Brandy yanked her gun from up under her belt and leaned out the window, shooting at the truck, but she didn't do any damage as it drove away and back on to the road.

"Damn it!" she screamed, having to turn her attention to the Walkers that had filled the yard.

She popped off her gun, dropping as many as she could. They saw Hershel limping towards the truck, trying to get away from the Walkers. Glenn jumped out of the truck to assist Michonne with him. Brandy got out as well, but jumped in the truck bed and covered them. The truck took off once they were all in. Brandy almost lost her balance, but caught herself. The others pulled open the gate and let them back in.

**Brandy looked through the fence that was now crawling with the dead, and on the far side she saw him, standing with Rick. She went to smile, but it didn't have time to form when she realized that that there was another person. He brought back his brother. Brandy gritted her teeth as the feeling of happiness was once replaced with anger. Damn him.**


	23. Judas

Brandy hadn't spoken to Daryl since he got back yesterday. She hadn't even so much looked at him, or said a word to anyone since he and Merle arrived. She was thankful that they saved Rick's life, but she couldn't help it, she was mad. He had tried to speak to her, but every time he did she pushed past him and went in the other direction. She was starting to feel that that her anger was misplaced, seeing as Michonne and Glenn were dealing with the fact Merle was there, but even if it was irrational she still felt betrayed by him. That fact that he left after she put her ass on the line ate at her. Daryl was the only one that knew what happened to her when she was out there alone, that time when she was hungry and frightened and lured into a man's house with the promise of food, shelter and safety only to be attacked and almost raped. She relived that Woodbury to him keep safe, and he didn't appreciate it.

Brandy strolled the catwalk while everyone discussed what to do. She walked past Daryl, catching his glance.

"We can't even go outside," Beth said, sounding scared.

"Well, not in the daylight," Carol answered.

"If Rick says we're not running, then we're not running," Glenn said.

Then Merle had to go open his mouth from behind the bars of his cell. His voice caused Brandy to cringe and grit her teeth while he talked. It was obvious no one wanted to hear what he said, although his words about killing the Governor before he killed them did make sense.

"Lets put him in the other cellblock," Maggie said, not wanting to be around Merle any longer.

"No. He's got a point," Daryl said, Brandy sucked her teeth, and the sound caused Daryl to shoot her a dirty look.

Rick had just come back from scouting out on the bridge. There weren't any snipers outside, but the whole yard was full of Walkers. They had to discuss a plan of action.

"I'll put Maggie on watch," Rick said to the others.

"I'll get up in the guard tower, take out half them Walkers and give them time to fix the fence," Daryl said to Rick.

"We can't access the field without burning through our bullets," Hershel countered.

"I can go," Brandy said looking up at them.

They looked over at her as if thinking about her offer. She noticed Michonne looked confused.

"No, not alone," Rick said, after giving it a quick thought.

Brandy sighed, subconsciously scratching the scars on her face.

"No, I can do it, me on the ground I can take half of em' out with my blades and put Daryl in the tower to take out the rest. It's a damn good plan," she added, putting her hands on her hips.

"It ain't gonna happen, last time you went alone there was only about seven of um and you almost died, and we ain't got any medical supplies if you get hurt," Daryl countered, sounding authoritative about the idea, Brandy didn't say anything back, only tightening her lips.

"Hold on a moment,” Michonne said, putting her hand up and looking at Brandy. "Why would you offer to go alone?"

"It's nothin'," Rick said, shutting down the topic as quickly as he could. They couldn't risk anyone finding out what she was. Michonne backed off, but still eyed Brandy for a moment.

"So were trapped in here?" Glenn asked, sounding worried. "There's barely any food or ammo."

"Been here before, we'll be alright," Daryl said to him. His words were encouraging, but his tone wasn't.

"Yeah, that was when it was just us," Glenn said. Daryl looked over at him. "Before there was a snake in the nest."

His words caused Daryl to narrow his eyes and step closer to him. Brandy silently agreed.

"Are we seriously gonna go through this again?" Daryl asked, getting slightly mad at Glenn, who only swallowed as Daryl stared at him. "Merle is stayin' here, he's with us now. Get use to it."

He paused looking around and his eyes landing right on Brandy

"All ya'll," he said, directing his last words to her. Brandy let out scoff as he was just about to walk away. He stopped and turned, walking over to her and getting in her face.

"Hey…" Rick said, trying to smooth over the obvious tension between the two. His words went unnoticed as Daryl stared at her and she glared back at him with a clenched jaw.

"You got somethin' to say?" he asked the young woman lowly.

Brandy reached her hand up and pushed Daryl back, causing Rick grab Brandy as she went to take a step towards him with a balled up fist.

"Enough!" Rick yelled, but Brandy wouldn't hear it. Daryl was surprised, but quickly snapped back to being angry at her.

"Fuck you! And your racist brother! How dare you bring him back here!" she yelled at Daryl. "He fuckin' started this!"

She yanked, trying to get out of Rick's grasp. She couldn't fight the urge, she wanted nothing more than to slap Daryl across his mouth for what he had done.

"Rick, you betta keep that girl away from me," Daryl hissed, before turning and walking up the stairs to the catwalk. Brandy huffed, and felt her eyes tear up a little before Rick let her go and then looked at her.

"You done?" he asked shortly, in that parental tone he always got with her. Brandy wrinkled her eyebrows and look away from him

"Whatta asshole…" Brandy mumbled to herself, wiping a tear away before it fell down her cheek.

"I asked if you were done?" Rick said, growing annoyed. Brandy slowly nodded.

"Yeah, leave me alone," she said, turning and walking away from the group and out of the cellblock door.

* * *

 

Daryl sat in his cell, fiddling with one of his arrows as him and Carol talked. What she had said about him coming so far made him feel awkward. He didn't know how to take the encouragement, but it did make him smile.

He looked up when he heard someone walk past his cell door. It was Brandy. Carol noticed anger flash across his face when he saw her at first, but then he realized that she was holding Little Asskicker in her arms and his expression changed. She didn't look over at them as she passed by, continuing down the catwalk, humming the same song that she always did when she held the little baby girl in her arms. Daryl paused a moment before he spoke.

"She fuckin' hates me now," he mumbled. Carol looked at him with a sad smile before shaking her head.

"No she doesn't. She's just hurt," she said, trying to make him feel better. Daryl looked away from her. "She told us what happened, about what they were going to do to her."

"I know, they made me watch," Daryl cut, not wanting to talk about it, but Carol insisted. She understood why Brandy was so upset.

"That's a selfless thing to do, it was brave. And after that she feels like turned your back on her," Carol said. Daryl felt a pang in his chest at her words. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"I couldn't do anythin' to stop it," He mumbled.

Carol looked at him. He looked very bothered as he clearly thought about what they had done to her.

"Daryl, she cares about you… just like you do. She can't stay mad at you, she'll come around, but you should thank her for the beating she took on behalf of you," Carol said, Daryl looked at her and nodded. He owed her at least that.

* * *

 

It was quiet around the prison. Brandy sat down at one of the tables in the common area and sharpened her machetes. The shallow peace was ruined when Carl came running in to the cellblock, looking concerned.

"Andrea's out there!" he said, causing the others to jump in to action.

"She alone?" Rick asked, loading his gun.

"Not sure," The boy said.

They knew Andrea was in league with the Governor, but they didn't know how loyal she was to him. They had better proceed with caution. She wasn't a friend anymore. She wasn't one of “their own”. As far as Brandy was concerned she was the enemy. Brandy grabbed her gun off the table and ran out on the outside bridge with Glenn and Carol to take point.

They opened the gate for her, but it wasn't a warm reunion, Rick took no chances with her, treating her as a stranger. She was alone, and wasn't an obvious threat to them, so Brandy lowered her gun and walked back inside with Glenn and Carol to wait for the others.

Rick lead Andrea in, and she looked around, seeing Carol. They hugged each other for a long moment before Andrea released her and looked over to Brandy. Andrea took a step towards her, but Brandy stepped back from her.

"Don't touch me," Brandy said. Andrea made a shocked expression at her cold words. Andrea had thought they were friends, but it was obvious things changed.

A lot had changed in six months that Andrea didn't know: Shane, Lori, T-Dog. She hadn't been there for any of it. She didn't live that pain, but she still had the nerve to say “sorry” like she cared. If she really did she would have come running to them days ago.

The tension in the room was strong and everyone was on edge. Even as they told her that the Governor had killed Axel, and they thought of him as a friend, she still backed him up. It made Brandy sick. She didn't want her there. She said that the Governor was gearing up for war with them; it was something they had already guessed without her help.

"I tell you what, next time you see Phillip, you tell him I'm gonna take his other eye," Daryl said, his tone dangerous.

Andrea tried to convince them to talk it over with the Governor, to try to call it even, but they would not hear it. There was no way that would work. Not after what he did.

* * *

 

Nighttime had fallen, and Andrea had left and gone back to Woodbury. Brandy wasn't sure if she'd see her again, and maybe if she did it would be when the war came between the two settlements. Brandy let out a huff and lowered the binoculars from her eyes as she kept watch on the guard bridge. She cracked her back and let out a yawn.

She heard the door to the cellblock squeak open. Brandy looked over to see Daryl step out and walk towards her. He didn't say anything at first, and Brandy shifted her weight from foot to foot. Daryl swallowed before speaking to her.

"My dad… he would beat my ma," he started to say, trying to fight the lump in his throat. "I was little then, and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

Brandy looked over at him as he talked.

"When ma died he started beating me and Merle…" Daryl nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "That's what it felt like when I had to watch them do that to ya… I couldn't do anythin' to stop it."

Brandy looked down and sniffled.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that but ya did."

Brandy didn't say anything to him, rubbing her upper arm as they stood there in the dark and moonlight.

"If I was you, I'd be pissed at me too, but don't hate me… we have enough to worry about without us being at odds with each other."

Brandy only nodded an answer. If it wasn't for what he shared with her, Brandy was uncertain if she would have fully forgiven him, but he had opened up to her. She knew it was hard for him.

Daryl clenched his jaw before speaking again. "I couldn't protect my ma, but I'll be damned if I let The Governor or his men lay a fuckin' hand on you again." He saw Brandy smile a tiny bit.

"No need for dat. I plan on getting my revenge if I ever cross them again," she said, looking up at Daryl.

He reached his hand out to touch her face, but stopped.

"Can I?" he asked, not knowing if she wanted to be touched after what she had been though.

She nodded, and he ran his hand down the scarred side of her cheek. He was comfortable with her because of them. He didn't have to feel self conscious about his own scars, because she had some as well. He admired her. Even though she wore hers on her face, she didn't let them hinder her self-esteem, something that he could never do. Brandy shifted uncomfortably at his soft touch; it wasn't because he was touching her, but more of how.

She went to push his hand away, but he kissed her hard first. Brandy moaned into his mouth as she felt him push her against the wire fence.

"Wait… isn't you supposed to be inside?" Brandy panted, as she felt Daryl's lips ghost against the curve of her neck.

"Yes… of you," he grunted, his cocky words making her giggle.

"I should be keepin' watch…" she mumbled, feeling him reach his hand to her ass and squeeze it.

"Glenn's down by the main gate. It's okay…" he whispered, reaching his hand up and under her shirt.

Brandy expected to be bothered by a man’s touch, but she wasn't, knowing that she was safe in Daryl's arms, even though they weren't sure if they would live another day on the account of the outside threat that loomed. He was gentle with her, lifting one of her legs up and softly touching her thigh. Brandy bit back the urge to moan his name as he ran his thumb over her nipple. She reached out and started to undo his belt, and Daryl started to kiss her.

Suddenly there was the sound of the cell block door swinging open, and they both jumped at the sound, looking over to see Merle standing in the doorway. Brandy quickly yanked Daryl's hand from up under her top. Daryl cleared his throat and took a step away from her, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. She was surprised that he wasn't more mortified than she was. She expected him to be afraid of what his brother would say or think, but he only looked at Merle with narrowed eyes, and said,"What?"

Brandy blinked in surprise at his calmness. She let out a tiny nervous laugh and scratched the side of her face.

"Uh… er… I gottta go… pee," she said, walking quickly past Merle and into the cell block.

This was the last thing she needed.

****  
  



	24. Little Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter opens with a flash back between the Dixon Brothers, I felt a little backstory was necessary.

_It was Daryl Dixon's birthday. He was sixteen, and in the mind of his older he was ready to become a man. Daryl was silent as he sat in the passenger seat of the pickup truck, picking a scab on his arm._

_"Will ya stop it?" Merle said, looking over to his brother. He was obviously nervous. "Ya better appreciate yer birthday gift that I got ya," he said with a smile as he pulled in to the cheap motel parking lot just off the highway._

_Daryl nervously chewed his nails before opening the tucks rackety door, stepping out, and following Merle to one of the rooms. The number 107 was displayed on the door, stenciled on with white, cheap paint that was flaking. Merle knocked and spit on the concrete before speaking._

_"Misty, open this door," he said._

_It was pulled open, and there stood a thin bleach-blonde woman who was wearing a crop top, mini skirt, and heels. She pulled her cigarette from her mouth and smiled at them._

_"My, my… ain't you a cutie," she said, looking at Daryl, who blushed and looked away. "How long you want?" She looked up at Merle, who pulled out his wallet._

_"An hour," he said, handing her some cash._

_"Am I doin' anything special?" she asked, raising her eyebrow and taking a drag. "Because ya' know certain things cost extra."_

_"Ha, just the basics," Merle said._

_"Merle… I don't wanna…" Daryl mumbled, looking scared._

_"What ya mean? Yer a man now, and being a man means gettin' pussy," he said to his scrawny little brother. "What, yer wanna grow up to be a faggot ‘er somethin'?"_

_"No… I don't wanna be a faggot," Daryl mumbled, before feeling his brother push him past the threshold. Misty grabbed him by his wrist and smiled at him._

_"Don't worry sugar. I'll take good care of you," she said, before shutting the door._

_Daryl looked back, hoping Merle would change his mind about all of this, but the hotel door only shut with a click._

* * *

"What the fuck do ya think yer doin’?" Merle asked, taking a step towards his brother.

Daryl didn't say anything to him, putting his hand on the chain link fence and looking out to the dark yard.

"Are ya outta your damn mind?" Merle asked his brother, who made no motion to explain himself.

It had been clear the first time Merle saw him again that he was not longer the scared nervous young man that once pined for his older brothers approval and attention. Daryl made no apology for the confidence he gained while with Brandy.

"You fuckin' serious?" Merle asked, taking another step towards his brother.

"See, this is what happens when I'm outta yer' life for a bit, you start fuckin' nigger girls!"

His words were enough to cause Daryl to snap.

"Don't you call her that!" Daryl said, taking a step towards his brother, who puffed out his chest at his little brother's fearlessness towards him.

"Are ya crazy in the head or somethin’?" Merle asked.

"I ain't gotta explain myself to you. This ain't got anything to do with ya," Daryl said, pushing past Merle.

* * *

 The sun had risen across the Georgia sky, casting the orange late summer’s glow. Brandy stood down the in the prison yard in front of the main gate. She was making sure to keep her distance, because certain people would question why Walkers weren't snapping at her from through the chain link fence. She and Daryl hadn't spoken since Merle had busted in on them last night. It made breakfast that morning particularly awkward, seeing as Merle wouldn't stop giving her dirty looks across the room while she tried to eat.

Brandy heard the large steel door to the cell black clank open. She glanced over her shoulder to see Merle walking towards her.

"Oh fantastic," she mumbled to herself as she rolled her eyes.

He stepped next to her, spat on the ground, and put his one good hand in his pocket.

Go away, just fuckin' go way, she thought, but of course he didn't.

"Ya know, if you would have met my little brother before all of this, you would have hated him, and he woulda felt the same about you," Merle started.

"Well dat's a different universe we don't live in, isn't it?" Brandy cut in a salty tone.

"You realize yer just a piece of ass right?" he asked, and his words made her cringe. She didn't want to look at him, keeping her eyes on the yard. "I raised Daryl, and I can tell you that he feel the same way I do."

He watched Brandy tighten her jaw and narrow her eyes. She heard him spit again before he spoke again.

"Whatever. All pussies are pink, but he ain't ever gonna care about you like ya think."

Brandy only let out a chuckle at his words, and shook her head.

"Ya know how I met your brother?" she asked, looking over at him. She pulled down the collar of her shirt and showed him the scar under her protruding collarbone. "He almost killed my ass.  He could have let me in the dirt to die, but he instead he carried my hungry, exhausted, unconscious body back to camp and stitched up my wound with his own two hands.”

Merle stared at the raised scar for a second.

"That was only, what, a few days after Rick had handcuffed your ass to that roof? Yeah it was." Brandy put her hand on her hip and smiled. "Ya, know I bet Daryl was never like you, I have this feelin' that he only agreed with the dumb shit that ya do to shut you up." Brandy flicked a piece of her hair out of her face. "Shit, that's what I woulda done, because you don't shut up."

Merle let out a laugh at her. "Listen to you talk, sugar tits."

"Don't fuckin' call me that!" Brandy snapped.

"Ya over here talkin' about Daryl like he's some kind of saint." He chuckled. "Did he ever tell you about the time me and him beat two black boys half to death? I bet he didn't."

"Shut up," Brandy mumbled.

"Awwww, what's wrong, can't take the truth?" he taunted. "I bet you and him had fun, but what you had with my brother ends, ya got that?"

"Oh! So what? You think that I seduced him with my black voodoo pussy, is that it!? Let me tell you one damn thing, you stomp-armed motherfucka'," Brandy said, taking a step towards Merle. "You ain't even five percent the man your little brother is, and you'll never be. Understand that shit."

She went to turn and walk back inside the cell block, but she stopped, turned around, and looked back at Merle.

"Oh by the way, ya brother fuckin' love all of this," she said, to add insult to injury, pointing at her tits, before heading back inside knowing that he was a pissed off as a hornet in a bonnet. She really didn't give a single care what he thought.

* * *

 

Rick, Carl, and Michonne were back from their run, and they obviously had good luck. They had brought back a baby crib and lots of guns. It went a lot better than she’d thought. They unloaded all of the loot that they had scored from the run, and Brandy pulled open a duffle bag and had to do a double take at what was sitting on top of some other supplies. Brandy smiled and reached in and pulled it out.

"Hey, someone got Daryl a new crossbow," she said, lifting it up.

Daryl stopped unloading supplies and looked up at it. He had genuine smile on his face when he saw it. He walked over to her and all but yanked it out of her hands.

"Who picked this out?" he asked, looking it over.

"I did." they heard from the corner of the room. It was Michonne. "I thought you'd like it."

"Th-thanks," Daryl said, biting back a little bit of surprise.

"Who's gonna get yer old one? I want it!" Brandy said, sounding much like a child.

"Brandy, you don't even know how to shoot it."

"Yeah, well, I can learn."

"You ain't even strong enough to load it," he said to her, amused.

"Oooh. I see you got a new crossbow," they heard Carol say as she walked in the common area and over to them. "Wow, that's nice. So can I have your old one?"

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"No.".

"You're gonna keep both? Ya greedy bastard," Brandy argued playfully.

"No, I'm gonna give it to Merle. He's the only one that--" he started to say, completely forgetting that his brother couldn't load it, seeing as he was missing a hand.

Daryl's sentence was cut short when all three of them saw Michonne slowly pull out something her back pack. They all looked over at her to see her holding a colorful cat statue.

"Isn't this the cutest thing you've ever seen?" she asked, looking at it adoringly.

"Yeah, it is cute," Carol said.

"Yer joking right?" Brandy chuckled.

"Yeah, that thing is ugly as hell," Daryl laughed.

"What? It isn't ugly," Michonne said, sounding slightly offended by his insult on her new Technicolor cat.

* * *

 

Brandy didn't like it. Rick, Daryl, and Hershel had gone to met with the Governor on neutral ground. Brandy offered to go, but of course that idea was shot down. She did say that that if she saw the men that violated her again she would kill on site, and of course Rick didn't want to chance a shoot out when they were trying to negotiate. Merle was upset about it too, not wanting his brother to go without him knowing what the Governor was capable of.

Brandy let out a sigh and cringed in pain. She had finally made real milk for Judith, but it wasn't a comfortable feeding. It was rather painful, and she could only make a little at a time, but she knew she had to push through it if she wanted to make more. There was a knock at her open cell door. Brandy looked up to see Michonne in the doorway.

"Hey," Brandy said with a pained smile.

"Hey. Can I come in?" Michonne asked.

Brandy nodded, and scooted over. Michonne sat down on the bottom bunk next to her.

"I, uh…" Brandy mumbled, looking down at the baby girl that was still suckling. "Lori would have done anything to keep this little girl alive, I felt like I owed her. I had to do something to keep her child alive." She wrinkled her brow from the sharp tugging pain.

"That's really selfless of you," Michonne said.

"Yeah, I hope she's lookin' down and appreciates this, because it hurts like hell," Brandy laughed.

Michonne smiled, and then looked at Brandy for a moment, studying her.

"What do you think is gonna happen with the Governor?" Brandy asked, finally feeling Judith release her breast. Brandy pulled up her bra and top, and then put Judith over her shoulder and tapped lightly on her back.

"I don't think he's going to give up," Michonne said, looking down at the baby girl.

"Yeah, I don't like it. Damn it, I should have went with them today…" Brandy mumbled.

"Rick's got it," Michonne said to the young woman.

"I fuckin' hope you're right." _  
_


	25. Hell isn't far behind you now.

Brandy heard a ripping noise, and then another that resounded around the cellblock. She got off of her bed and peeked out of her cell, raising her thin eyebrow.

"What da hell is that?" she mumbled, looking around.

The cellblock was empty, but then she saw what looked like mattress stuffing being thrown over the railing above her. Brandy tightened her lips and walked up the metal stairs, looking into one of the cells to see Merle ripping open a mattress.

"Ay! You ain't gonna come in our house and trash it!" she said, putting her hands on her hips.

He stopped and looked over at her, removing his bladed stump from the torn up bed. A smirk came to his lips as he glanced at her, before getting up and walking over to the doorway.

It was the first time that Brandy realized that Merle had the same color eyes as his brother, brilliant baby blue. Merle's eyes reflected the same feeling that she got from Daryl when she first met him, what she’d seen when he stood over her after he had driven one of his arrows in to her chest. But while she saw Daryl change, it was obvious that Merle stayed stagnate, stuck with his ignorance and flaws that had't become positive qualities.

"Ya got a mouth on ya," he said.

"I do, you got a problem with it?" Brandy cut, put off by his closeness to her, but she stood her ground. She watched as his eyes glance down to her chest, and then back to her face. She gritted her teeth and fought the urge to slap him for that.

"I can see why my brother likes you," he chuckled.

"Gee, thanks for the compliment," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Merle snickered and stepped away from her.

"Not gonna lie, proud of my lil' brother. He pulled a fine lil' piece of ass with you… well…" He trailed off.

"Ya, well, minus da whole 'black thing,' I know, whatta drag," she said mockingly.

"Indulge my curiosity, will ya honey? How the hell did ya and my brother become an item?" he asked, sitting down on the cell floor.

Brandy shifted nervously.

"First off, don't call me 'honey,' and second, me and Daryl ain't an item. It's just mutual gain," Brandy said matter-of-factly. But she stopped as soon as she heard Merle chuckle at her words. "Wha ya laughin at?"

"Ya really don't know my brotha' then."

"Fuck off, I know Daryl… better than most," she said, growing defensive because of the topic.

She knew him. She thought of him as her best friend. She didn't like being told she didn't know him. He laughed at her again, and Brandy narrowed her eyes at him.

"Ya think it's just fuckin'?" Merle asked. Brandy folded her arms and shifted her weight nervously. "Naw, ya got feelins' for my darlin' brother."

"Aw please. Daryl and me are just friends with benefits," she said, stressing that.

"Whatever, cutie pie," he said.

Brandy let out an annoyed hiss at the way he said those nicknames, somehow lacing them with an insult.

"I'm all for mutual gain, what ever but ya better not hurt him," Merle said.

Brandy was a little surprised at his protective tone when it came to Daryl. She rolled her eyes and went to step away from the door.

"Just clean this shit up," she said, feeling uncomfortable, walking down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

Brandy stepped outside into the afternoon light. The heat of the summer had faded, and now was replaced with the cool breeze of early autumn. She already missed the summer heat, feeling blanketed and hidden in her jeans and oversized black sweater that she wore almost all last winter. She rested her hands on her machetes that were holstered on each side of her belt as she walked to the front gate. The day had gone relatively peacefully. It was almost unnerving how calm it was, but she knew she had to savor the silence, because she knew it wouldn't last long.

She heard the door bang shut from the cellblock. She turned around to see Daryl rushing towards gate. She went to open her mouth to ask what the hell he was doing, but he spoke first.

"Cover me, I gotta go out," he said, glancing over at her.

"Wait, what?" Brandy asked.

"I gotta go on a run, and I need ya to cover me," he repeated, growing annoyed with her.

"I'll come with," Brandy said, looking at him.

Daryl shook his head and put his hand up.

"Naw, I gotta go on my own. Now let me through," he ordered, but he knew Brandy was as stubborn as a mule.

"Naw, you ain't gonna just run off without letting anyone know where yer goin’," she said, folding her arms and stepping in front of the gate.

"Brandy, why do ya gotta make shit so difficult!" he yelled, growing angry with her.

"Tell me where ya goin’ or you'll have to move me," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Ya know I can if I have to," he said, but Brandy stood her ground. Daryl paced for a second. She would worry about him if he didn't tell her where he was going. He knew it, and she would pry it out of Rick eventually.

"I gotta go after Merle and Michonne," he finally said. He knew Rick had told him not to say a word to anyone else, but she was in the way, and he was wasting time.

"What?" she asked, not understanding the whole situation.

"Brandy, good lord, what don't ya understand? I gotta go!" he said.

It was obvious to her this was really important, and that she needed to step aside and let him do what he needed to do. Brandy nodded and undid the chain.

"Come back, ‘kay?" she mumbled, before pulling the gate open.

"I will," he said as she pulled open the gate.

She watched him run out and dodge Walkers, not wanting to waste time killing any. Brandy watched as he ran and disappeared in the brush of the tree line.

"Fuck," Brandy mumbled to herself, and yanked the chains off of the gate, readying her machetes. No one goes alone, she knew that. She wouldn't let him just run off. Brandy wasn't the one that that followed orders. Hard head made a soft ass, but she didn't care.

 

* * *

 

Brandy stayed behind him, trying to make sure he didn't notice her. She could see him maybe a few yards up a head. Brandy was a shit tracker, but she didn't need to be good at it, as long as she kept him in eye sight. She could only imagine how pissed he would be if noticed her. She would never hear the end of it. So she kept quiet and stayed behind him and to the left. She lost track of him for a few moments and grew frantic, but she kept herself together, and then saw him through the trees. The farther out they got, Brandy wished she would have told someone where she was going instead of just running off. Eventually, he exited the woods and walked onto an open road.

"Damn it," she whispered.

She stayed in the woods, keeping back and watching him through the trees, hoping that the trees would hide her. She nervously scratched the scar that she had under her collarbone, knowing full well that if she startled him he could be a danger to her himself, knowing all too well that if he thought she was a Walker hiding in the woods, he would shoot.

"Hey!" she heard him yell at someone. Maybe he had found Merle and Michonne.

Brandy came out of the woods a little to see who it was. It was Michonne, but there was no Merle. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Daryl took off running past her. Brandy waited a few seconds before fully stepping out of the woods and approaching Michonne. She looked at her oddly, knowing that she was trying to avoid being noticed by Daryl.

"He said he didn't want anyone coming after him," Michonne said to the young woman.

Brandy looked ahead. She could still see Daryl through the clearing.

"I ain't comin’ to stop him. I got his back. No one goes alone," Brandy said.

Michonne looked at her and raised her eyebrow at the young woman, who was looking around for a good place to hide while following him.

"When ya go back, tell the others where I went for me," Brandy said, before continuing on with a jog.

She felt a cramp in her side from running, trying to keep him in her sight. She paused, and tried to catch her breath, but by the time she looked up he was gone.

"Aw fuck," she mumbled to herself.

She looked down in the grass and tried to see if she could make out any shoe prints. She couldn't see anything. How the did he even do that? Hell, Daryl could make out deer or rabbit prints if he looked hard enough. She wished she had asked him to teach her a few tracking things, just in case. She could have used the knowledge right about then.

She felt her hands grow a little clammy as she came across a few shacks. She could hear Walkers smacking their lips on muscle and bones. There wasn't just one body, but six or seven, some of them ripped up, but some had head shot wounds.

"What the fuck…?" she mumbled, when she recognized one of them. He was one of the men from Woodbury. One of them that beat her and would have raped her. She paused for a second and stared down at his corpse. He was missing half of his head.

Brandy thought she heard something. Not the moaning and wheezing of Walkers; it sounded like crying. She listened, and she was right. It was sobbing.

"No… no!" she said to herself. She knew Daryl must have come through this way. What if he got bit?

She ran towards the sound, and stopped when she saw him. He was laying in the grass weeping. Brandy went on her first reaction, and ran over to him. Something was wrong. Maybe he was bit, maybe he was injured. She dropped down to her knees, not registering anything else but him. Brandy grabbed him, her eyes nervously looking him over. She didn't see any blood, and he didn't say anything, still shaking with sobs.

"Daryl, what happened?" she asked, only then noticing his eyes look past her.

Brandy turned around, and then she saw him. The gleam on his bladed hand. It could have only been one person. Merle Dixon. Brandy's mouth gaped open when she realized what happened. Daryl's hand was still clenching a blood-soaked knife. He had to put him down.

"Oh… god…" she whispered, looking back at Daryl.

Words couldn't describe how painful his sobs were to her ears. His fearlessness had come crumbling down. She did the only thing she could do: she held him. She expected him to push her away, but he didn't. She could feel him tremble as he cried on to her chest. The sound of him reminded her of her own broken yelps when she had cried for her own brother, as she held him in her arms after finding him dead. She thought she had capped those emotions long ago for her family. She thought she had cried for them as much as she could. But when she saw Daryl's sorrow for the loss of his own, those once dormant feelings spilled over. And once again Brandy was remained that, no matter far she would try to push the thought out of her mind, the fact came back that one by one they would die, young never having the chance to grow old. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On hold until Season 4. The last episode of season 3 was lacking.


	26. Full Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I haven’t done an update of this fic since last year, and I didn’t write an update for the last episode of season 3 because I felt that it was lacking, but here it is. Starting after the new season airs there will be updates weekly. Might have typos because no bata.

There was nothing but silence as Brandy and Daryl made their way back to the Prison. There was nothing to say. She knew that no matter what she said in an attempt fix the pain of having to put his own brother’s Walker down, whatever words escaped her lips wouldn’t cure his woe. Silence was golden in that moment. When they arrived, Maggie and Glenn opened the gates for them, and Brandy pulled the car into yard and got out.

“Brandy!”  Maggie said as she ran up to her, glancing in the car only to see the two of them. “Where have you been?! We’ve been worried sick…”

Brandy didn’t look at her, only standing there trying to process what just happened. Daryl got out of the car with no words to anyone, and walked to the cellblock door, walling in and slamming it shut.

“Where’s Merle?” Glenn asked her.

“Dead,”  Brandy said simply.  “Daryl had to put him down.”

Her tone lost and void, she didn’t say anything thing else before heading to the door. She stepped down the stairs and went to see where everyone was. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Rick step out of the cellblock.

“Brandy, can I have a word?” Rick asked, walking towards her.

She knew he was upset due to his tone. She knew she was in trouble for leaving without a word to the group. He stepped in front of her and put his hands on his hips, and glared at her. She didn’t look up at him, keeping her eyes on the ground, like a child who new they were about to get a verbal lashing.

“Are you out of your mind?” he asked. Brandy went to speak, but he cut her off. “You can’t just run off! We thought something happened to you!”

“Rick, I--” she tried to say, only to have him yell again.

“You can’t run off! You aren’t invisible!” he hissed, grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her.

“You let him go out there alone!” Brandy screamed back, growing angry with Rick. “You didn’t see what the fuck happened!”

Tears were welling in her eyes. Brandy knew Merle’s intentions were good, but he had to have made things worse. He poked the hornet’s nest, and if the fear of Woodbury wasn’t present before, it certainly was now. She couldn’t stop from crying, it was too much. Dormant sorrow that she had fought to keep locked away had boiled over.

Rick felt the words “it’s going to be okay” on his lips, but he didn’t dare say them, and he wouldn’t promise anything he couldn’t keep. He did the only thing he could. He hugged the girl that he saw as a niece.  He half expected Brandy to yank away, wanting to keep up her tough girl persona, but she didn’t.

“I’m not gonna make anyone stay and fight if they don’t want,” Rick said. His words stopped Brandy’s sobs, and she pulled away and looked at Rick, shocked at first, and then an annoyed expression came across her face. “If you want to leave I understand.”

“Oh fuck you Rick…” Brandy swore, wiping her face. “You know I’m here ‘til the fuckin’ end.”

“Well that’s good to hear. But no more running off, you understand?” he asked. Brandy nodded and slightly rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry I worried ya, boss,” Brandy said with a slight smile.

* * *

 

 Brandy had packed her own backpack. She stood in the cell she called ‘hers’ for what could be the last time. Rick had ordered them to pack everything up in to the cars, just in case they had to leave. The plan was in place: the ones that could fight would, and the others would be on standby, waiting to see how it went. If they lost, the others would leave. Brandy didn’t really like the plan, but it was either that or leave the only secure place they really had ever had.

Brandy left the cellblock and walked into the cool morning air. She walked up to her car and ran her hand along the side of it, remembering when she got the dents back on the farm, when they had to run away from that safe haven. It had been a year since then, and it was happening again, but this time at the hands of live men, and not the undead. Brandy shook her head, put her bag in the packed up Hyundai, and looked around at the others.

“It’s time,” Rick said to them. Beth, Judith, Carl, and Hershel would take the car to the woods, and would run if things went south. Maggie and Glenn took the bridge.

“I’ll take inside,” Brandy said to Rick, as they were trying to figure out what other positions they needed to take.

“Not alone you won’t,” Daryl said to her.

“No, you need to be out here,” she said. She could tell the didn’t like the idea. “Listen, they’ll go in, lookin’ for us. I can bet he’ll drive his people down into the halls where the Walkers are. You won’t have to worry about them gettin’ ahold of me,”

Her words made Michonne raise her eyebrow.

“I’ll hide the boiler room when they get close. I’ll throw the flash bangs and smoke grenades. In tight spaces that should cause some confusion, and before they know it they’ll be Walker snacks,” Brandy said, narrowing her eyes at the bright morning light that they stood in.

“Alright,” Rick nodded, knowing that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer on this.

“Good. But Rick...” Brandy paused for a second. “I’m gonna be shootin’ to kill, just so we’re clear on that.”

The others looked at her as she stood there, unflinching and cold at her statement.

 

* * *

 Brandy did what she had said, and hit in the boiler room. Just as she had suspected, he lured them down into the tight catacombs that the prison had under it. Her heart raced in her chest, and there was a vengeful excitement that couldn’t be described. She looked over to her right, to the blood stain that still marked the floor were Lori died, gritting her teeth as she heard them pass by the door.

It was either this or running. And they had ran enough. They couldn’t raise a baby on the road, and they knew Hershel wouldn’t survive. Brandy had come to a dark conclusion that everyone else was expendable as long as they weren’t her family.

She slipped open the door and threw the flash bang. It hit the ground and exploded, causing confusion. She knew someone else had pulled the lower level alarms. She could hear the panic as they tried to escape, but she wouldn’t allow it, stepping out from the door and putting her arm up. There were a few of them still scurrying out of the hall. It wasn’t like she was forced to do it; she killed them because she wanted to. Because they brought the fight there, and she felt they deserved it.

 

* * *

 

 

Brandy checked the rounds in her gun, and was about to walk towards the truck. They were going to find them and end it. It was the right thing to do, and she was ready. She looked over to see Carol walking towards her.

“Are you going to be careful?” Carol asked her, drawing a snort from the young woman.

“Always am.” She smiled.

“You know that’s a damn lie,” Carol said with a smile, knowing Brandy was the type to shoot first and ask questions later.

“Yeah, well I’m still here ain’t I?” Brandy asked, before hopping in the back seat of the tuck.

It was only her, Rick, Daryl, and Michonne that were going. She had hoped that Maggie and Glenn would have ridden into the hell with them, but they needed people to hold it down at home as well, just in case. The car ride was an awkward one, and she started to wish she had ridden on the back of Daryl’s bike.  

It was quiet in the tuck with Rick driving and Michonne in the passenger seat. She noticed that Rick kept glancing over at Michonne, who seemed to not notice as she kept her eyes on the window. Brandy put her hand over her mouth and bit back a childish snicker when she wondered if Rick liked black girls.

Rick looked up at her in the rear view mirror.

“What’s funny?” he asked, effectively shutting her up.

“Nothin’, boss man,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

They finally came to a stop on the highway. There were bodies and Walkers littering the road.

“That’s the Governor’s people,” Michonne said as they stopped.

Brandy hopped out of the truck and looked around.

“What the fuck is all of this?” she asked, looking around.

“Not sure,” Rick said, killing one of the Walkers.

“Did he kill his own fucking people?” Daryl asked.

Michonne watched as Brandy walked past a Walker that was chewing on a dead woman’s body. It made no move to attack her.  Michonne narrowed her eyes, realizing where the scars on her face were really from, and why they made no motion to attack her.

Brandy jumped when there was a bang on the truck window. Daryl yanked open the door and pulled out a woman.

“Please!” she begged, cowering and putting her hands up.

Brandy watched Rick lower his gun. She walked towards the woman, aiming at her head.

“Please! Don’t kill me!” the woman shouted, staggering backwards.

“Brandy, lower your gun,” Rick ordered.

“No! She’s one of them!” she hissed, her hand shaking. “We came here to end dis’ shit.”

Daryl stepped in front of her. She sucked her teeth and lowered her gun. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“Enough! We need her, now calm down. I have a plan,” Rick said, as Daryl grabbed the woman. “What’s your name?”

“Ka-Karen,” she sputtered. “He… the Governor, he just… shot them all.” She hiccuped. “It was horrible, how could he?”

Rick let out a sigh and shook his head.

“I should have left when Andrea did,” Karen uttered, causing the three of them to exchange glances.

“Andrea?” Michonne asked.

“Yeah she jumped the wall and said she was going to the Prison…”

There was silence for a moment as they looked at each other.

“She’s not there?” the woman asked.

“No, she isn’t,” Rick confirmed.

“Oh shit… he has her…” Karen said, looking horrified.

“Where?” Michonne demanded.

 

* * *

 

 

Getting past the gate was easy enough. Tyreese and his sister willingly let them pass after hearing Karen tell them what the Governor had done. They made their way down to the Governors makeshift holding cells. Brandy clenched her jaw and felt her gut churn, remembering what his men had done to her down there.

“This is where he had Glenn and Maggie,” Rick said, as they made their way down the right corridor.

“The Govener held people here?” Tyreese asked.

“He did more than hold them,” Daryl added, glancing over at Brandy. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Yes, I’m good,” she uttered, as they came to a steel door.

There was blood seeping from up under it. Brandy didn’t want it to open. She didn’t want to know what was behind it.  Rick put his hand to the latch.

“One, two, three,” he said, before yanking it open.

They saw a dead Walker, and then the legs of a woman. Michonne rushed in. It was Andrea. She was bit. Brandy put her hand over mouth and bit back a sob.

“Judith, Carl, the rest of them…” she stated to say as Michonne held her.

“Us… the rest of us…” Rick said.

Brandy couldn’t hold her tears back.

“Are they alive?” she asked.

“Yeah, they are…” Rick said.

Brandy sniffled and looked over at Daryl, shaking her head. He knew what she was thinking, that she was holding on to the tiny miniscule hope that Andrea was like her. A hope that she had every time someone she loved fell victim to a bite.  But Daryl’s cold expression didn’t give her any comfort, it only spoke of a realistic fact: that it was extremely improbable. Brandy looked back over at her and knew that even if she were, she wouldn’t survive the wound on her neck.

Andrea wanted to do it herself, Rick handed her his gun.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Michonne said softly.

The went to leave the room as she requested, but before Brandy did, she lightly put her hand on Andrea’s shoulder. No words were spoken, only a simple touch that spoke of “goodbye”.  

They waited outside of the door for what seemed like an eternity before they heard the gunshot that ended Andrea Harrison’s life.


	27. Living a Fool's Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Shit I loved the new episode! So here we go.

Brandy slipped a cigarette in her mouth and lit it, sucking the smoke in to her lungs and exhaling from her nostrils. It was finally warm, the heat melting the cold, and now she had the chance to shed her jeans and sweaters for her much beloved short shorts. Things were better. Not perfect, but a lot better.  Brandy heard a knock at her cell door.

“Ya smoking again?” she heard Daryl ask.

Brandy turned around and put her hands on her hips before zipping her shorts up.  

“You know there’s no smokin’ in here,” he said.

Brandy rolled her eyes. Daryl had taken the role of  ‘leader’ for the most part, while Rick took a step back.

“It’s bad for ya lungs.”  

Brandy snickered and walked towards him.

“Since when do ya care about my lungs?” Brandy asked with a smile and a laugh, putting out her cigarette in the empty bean can that she used for an ashtray. Daryl eyed her, her shirt too tight and her shorts too small, exposing her thick thighs.

“Those boy’s will be all ova’ ya today,” he said, as they both excited into the hall.

“Psssf. They always are,” Brandy snickered, with her usual brand of charming cockiness.  It was true, she had become very popular when to came to younger men that recently joined the group. “But you know, the ladies want a piece of you, too.”

Brandy smiled, poking him in the chest playfully. Daryl snorted and rolled his eyes at her statement.

“You goin’ on the run today?” Daryl asked, watching her scratch the faded scars on the side of her face.

“No, I’m the housewife for the day… I got cleanin’ duty. I think I’m gonna stay back on this one,” she grumbled, leaning up against the railing.

“Yeah, you did just get back from your last solo run,” he grumbled. “I hate it when ya go out by yer’ self.”

His words caused her to smile.

“That’s what I do,” she shrugged. “But maybe after you get back… we could, uh…”

Daryl slightly smiled and shook his head.

“That’s if you don’t have plans with Carol or something,” she joked.

“Uh, stop it,” he groaned. He simply didn’t understand her and her very odd hints about him and Carol. “Pssf. I can’t deal with you.” Daryl shook his head and walked away from her.  

Brandy smirked to herself and continued on her way. Everyone was just getting up and around. It had been peaceful for the last thirty days, no deaths, and no Walkers getting in. Just right. There were so many new people; the last bunch of them arrived just a week ago. There was stability now, watch shifts, duties, and structure. After seeing what the Governor had done with his own dictatorship at Woodbury, they had formed a council that helped make decisions for the better of the group, and Brandy liked having a say the affairs.

 

* * *

 

 Brandy stretched and headed outside, smelling the breakfast that Carol was cooking. The aroma of ham hung in the air. Brandy saw Carl and Patrick walking ahead of her.

“Mornin’ boys,” she chimed with a smile, as she walked past them.

“Hey Brandy,” Carl said.

“Uh… er… morning Ms. Brandy,” Patrick choked out, nervously.

Brandy stopped and turned around.

“Ms.?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Well, you’re a member of the council and all,” he said. Carl looked over at him and rolled his eyes.

“Yer’ such a sweetheart,”  Brandy chuckled. “See ya guys later.” She smiled before heading towards the outside eating area.

“Really? ‘Ms.’ Brandy?” Carl asked, looking over at his friend.

“What? I’m just being respectful,” Patrick said, pushing up his glasses.

“No, you have a crush on her,” Carl snickered. “Ew, she’s like way older then you.”

“Only by like 4 years,” he uttered.

“Dude, gross.” Carl chuckled and shook his head.

* * *

  
Brandy whistled as she made her way over to get some breakfast.

“Hey Carol!” Brandy beamed grabbing a plate. “Ham and powdered eggs, yum.”

“It’s a hell of a lot better then the slop we’ve been eating for the last few months,” the older woman said, squinting her eyes from the harsh sunlight. She looked at Brandy and grinned.

“What?” Brandy questioned, raising her over-plucked her eyebrow.

“Are you trying to give all the boys in camp a heart attack?” Carol snickered, motioning towards Brandy’s cleavage.

“Aww, come on, they aren’t that big,” Brandy pouted, looking down at her ample chest.

“Yeah, okay,” Carol joked with the young woman.

Her eyes landing on the pink and purple star bracelet that Brandy wore on her wrist, that was symbolic of her late daughter, Sophia.

“The elastic is getting worn down,” Carol said, as she fried up some more ham.

Brandy glanced down at the band that was starting to spit and lose its shape.

“We’ve got a build up of Walkers around the east gate,” Carol sighed.

Brandy turned around and looked out towards the yard, and sure enough, there were Walkers piling up out there.  They weren’t spreading out any longer. Of course, there were always Walkers around the gate, but not like this.

“Hummm. What does the Boss wanna do about it?” she asked trying to cut her ham with the edge of her fork.

“I’m going to ask him about it later.”

“We better do something quick ‘bout it or that is gonna come down… and we sure as hell don’t need that shit.”

 

* * *

  

Brandy watched through her binoculars to see Rick and Carl opening the gate of the Prison. She smiled seeing who it was, and ran down the stairs to make her way over to them. It was Michonne. She had been going on trips to see if she could hunt down the Governor, seeing as he was still out there. Having him killed would be a weight off of everyone’s shoulders. They didn’t know if or when he would show back up, and if he did, it would surly be with a vengeance.

“I didn’t find him,” Michonne said to Daryl, who was on his bike on why out for the run. Brandy folded her arms and wrinkled her brow at her words.

“Glad to see yer’ in one piece,” Daryl said.

“I’m thinking of lookin’ over near Macon,” she said. Brandy looked over and let out a grumble.

“That’s hella far…” she said, shaking her head, not like that idea at all.

It was obvious she wasn’t the only one. Rick wore his apprehension on his face.

“It’s worth a shot,” Michonne argued.

“Seventy miles of Walker and you might run in to a few unneighborly types… is it?” Daryl asked, giving her pause.

Brandy noticed the way Rick looked at Michonne. It wasn’t the first time she saw him give her that look. Brandy held back a snicker, catching it before anyone noticed. Even though Michonne had just arrived back at camp, she offered to go with the away group for the run. Brandy applauded her. There was no way she wouldn’t have been worn out.

“Uh, I’ll see ya later, Daryl,” Brandy said, looking over at him and patting him on the shoulder.

“Have some clean clothes waitin’ for me, will ya?” he joked, before revving his bike.

“Wow, fuck you too,”  Brandy laughed, before helping Rick open the gate to let them out.  

Brandy looked over at Rick once the gate was closed, still hearing the sound Daryl’s motorcycle fading off in the distance.

“What?” Ricked asked, raising his eyebrow at the young woman. Brandy pouted and shook her head. “What is it?”

“Nothin’, just that….” she started to say, putting her hand up and shielding her one good eye from the glare of the sunlight. “Just you looked a lil’ sad when Michonne left so quickly.”  

Rick snorted and shook his head.

“I’m just worried about her, is all,” he said.

“Uh huh,” Brandy hummed, nodding her head.

“You’ve been on this theory for months now, you know?  And it doesn’t have a shred of credibility.” He chuckled.

“What? I just think you guys would a cute couple and I have a feelin’ you guys should just….”

“Okay. Not going to have this conversation with you,” Rick said, going to walk away from her. “Don’t you have laundry do to, or something?”

 

* * *

 

Brandy sighed and made her way through the cellblock, carrying the hamper down the empty cellblock hallway. Most people were about, outside or in other parts of the prison. Not many of them liked to spend the days cooped up in their “rooms”. They had a system: once a week, laundry was done, and if you wanted anything clean, you left it by the cell door on laundry day.

“God, I should have gone on da run,” Brandy uttered to herself, picking up a few grimey garments, throwing them in the basket, and heading to the next cell that was Daryl’s. She bent down to grab the pair of jeans and a few sleeveless shirts off of the floor when she heard something make crushing noise.

“Hmm?” She rustled the clothing around until realizing that there was something in his back pocket of his jeans. She didn’t want to wash and ruin whatever it was, so she pulled it out.

It was a bent Polaroid picture, of her and Carol… the same picture that she realized was missing from the pile almost a year ago. They had taken it the winder before, when they had stayed in a storage facility. She had found the camera that still had a few shots left on it.  She had wondered what happened to that one. Brandy smiled and shook her head. How sentimental of him. She placed it on the side table, and she saw his poncho lying on the bed.

“Ugh… this needs to be washed, too,” she mumbled to herself, throwing it in the basket as well.

Brandy heard someone enter the cellblock. She didn’t pay much attention until she heard coughing. She looked over the guardrail to see who it was.

“Pat?” she called, leaving the hamper and making her way down the metal stairs. “You okay?”

She looked at the young man, who still coughed, but nodded.

“I’m just feeling a little sick.”

His word caused alarm. It was summer, not really the time for colds to go around. Brandy put her hand to his head. He felt a tad warm, but nothing too bad.

“Have you thrown up?” she asked, watching his motions carefully. She knew he hadn’t been outside of the gate since he got there, so he wasn’t bit.

“No, I feel like I’m going to.”

“Might be a lil’ bug going around.” She huffed. “You haven’t… exchanged any body fluids with anyone?” she asked, trying her best to sound clinical about the question.

“Ew… no.”

“Okay, okay. So you’re not kissin’ any girls… or boys… got it,” Brandy chuckled. He quickly looked up at her, embarrassed that she was asking such a thing. “Did you eat anything that could have made you sick?”

“No, I just had breakfast, and the deer that Daryl brought back last night,” he said, shaking his head.

“Any body contact with anyone today?” she asked, trying to figure out if something was possibly going around.

“No…” He paused. “Yeah, I shook Daryl’s hand after he licked his fingers.”

“Well, Daryl can be gross, but I’m sure that wasn’t it,” She chuckled, shrugging off the subject. “Now, how ‘bout you go lay down. I’m sure it’s nothin’ to worry about. "


	28. Once Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm late on this, I've been really busy. It is 8:30 on sunday night and the new episode is about to air. Might have typos

Brandy stood outside on the guard bridge, keeping her eyes on the dark yard below.  The sound of the Walkers hissing and snarling off in the distance filled the otherwise silent nighttime air.  

There was the clank of the C-block door opening. She turned her head to see Daryl’s silhouette, which she could name even in the darkness.

“Hey…” Brandy said to him. He put his hands in his pockets and walked over to her.

“I heard what happened today….” Brandy said lowly, her voice holding a weary sigh.

“Yeah,” Daryl uttered, rubbing his forehead. “Zach was a good kid.” Brandy hummed to acknowledge his words.

“This happened because of Bob,” she said, putting her hands against the chain link fence.

“Shit happens, ya know that,” Daryl said, watching her, shaking his head.

“I don’t like that guy… I mean, ya found him wandering all alone… it just seems odd is all,”  she said, looking over at him, the dim moonlight casting shadows on his face. She saw him slightly smile at her words and shake his head. “What?”

“Ya do remember that I found you wanderin’ all alone too, right?” he asked. Brandy rolled her eyes.

“So not the same thang… but okay. I just--” She paused and scratched her arm. “I just think we are taking in too many people. We don’t really know them.”  Brandy let out a sigh.

“Maybe I just miss the days when it was just us,” she admitted. “I mean, one person that we let in here could possibly bring it down.” Brandy shrugged, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Maybe we should close our door for a while. We are getting soft. Hell, Rick almost got eaten by some crazy bitch and her husband’s Walker head,” Brandy raved, “all because he won’t take his damn gun and he’s back to being foolishly idealistic.”

She bent her fingers along the chain link and let out a sigh.

“Fuck, I’m sorry ‘bout that… just, we were doin’ so good, and then today. Glenn told me that y’all almost didn’t make it.”

Daryl shifted at her words and let out a grunt.

“Lets hope the next thirty days is better,”  Brandy said, stepping away from the fence and going to make her way back inside, only to have Daryl grab her arm.

She turned and looked at him, raising her over-plucked eyebrows at his touch.  She thought about kissing him, biting her lip, but then shook her head.  

“We’ll have to take a rain check on fuckin’ around…” he said. She could tell that the stress of the run was to blame.

“Yeah, I agree, not tonight,” she said to him, as they both made their way inside. “Not because I’m horny or nothin’.”

“When are you never horny?” Daryl joked with her. Brandy balled up her first and smacked him in the arm.

“‘Kay, you can go fuck yerself,” She quibbled, drawing a laugh from him as they returned inside, missing the flashlight that cut through the darkness by the gate by only seconds.

* * *

 Brandy yawned as she brushed ratty hair; the cellblock was empty save for her. It seemed everyone had already gotten up for the day. She knew she wouldn’t hear the end it for over sleeping. She picked up her machetes and slipped them under her belt.  Brandy picked up a pack of cigarettes off of her bedside table, and went slip one in her mouth. She knew she wasn’t supposed to smoke inside, but no one was around.

As soon as she was about to light the tip there was a bang, which startled her.  The sound was obviously gunshots, snapping through the air.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Brandy yelped, running out of the cellblock and into the summer morning light.

She reached the outside door, and heard the others yelling in commotion. There was another bang.  She didn’t have time to ask questions. Seeing them all run towards Cell Block D, she instinctively did the same, yanking her blades from up under her belt. As soon as they got in there, it was mass panic. Brandy assumed there had to have been a breach in the lower levels. There weren’t many Walkers and they made short work of them. But question remained: what happened? 

* * *

 “No bites, no wounds, I think he just died,” Rick said, looking over one of the newer additions to the Prison.

“There’s no reason for that, he was a healthy twenty-four-year-old,” Bandy said, looking the body.

“He choked to death on his own blood,” Hershel noted, looking at the young man’s bloodied face. “Caused those trails down his face.”

“Yeah, saw them on Patrick, too,” Daryl said, causing Brandy to quickly turn her head over to him.

“What?” she asked.

“He’s dead. He had those same bloody marks on his face, same red eyes too.”

Brandy had to take a second to process that. She had just seen him yesterday. She remembered how he had told her that he didn’t feel good.

“It’s a sickness, caused by the Walkers?” Bob’s voice asked from the door.

“No, these things have happened before they were around. Could be numerical, most likely an aggressive flu strain,” Dr. S said.

“Aw, are ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me!?” Brandy said, throwing her hands up in the air. How were they being so calm? This wasn’t a stay-calm situation.

“All of us in here, we’re all exposed…” Hershel added.

They all looked at each other, a horrible silence dropping into the room.

 

* * *

 All of them sat at the table in the library for a council meeting, but Brandy’s thoughts were in and out. Her heart was still racing, causing her to hear her pulse in her ears. She thought they had beaten it, they had a safe place to live, with food, water… now this. Why? she kept asking herself, feeling less sad and angrier than anything else.

“People die and they become a threat.” she heard Carol say from across the table.

“I say if they cough, they have three hours, and if they get worse… they’re done,” Brandy said, peaking up for the first time during the meeting.

“Are you kidding me? You just want to kill them?” Daryl asked, sounding disgusted at her suggestion.

“Look at where we are,” she said, looking around. “You heard Dr. S, this is a super stain, none of the medicine we have will do anything.” She folded her arms and sat back in her chair.

“What if it was you?” he asked, looking over at the young woman.

“I would ask for an arrow in my head and I’d thank ya while ya did it.” Then she fell silent once again, not having anything else to add to the conversation.

They heard someone cough from the hall, and all of them hurried out to see who it was. She saw Tyreese and Karen walking, completely ignorant at what was going on, even though Hershel was trying to explain why they couldn’t go back to cellblock D.

“It killed Patrick?” Karen asked, looking worried that her coughing was caused by whatever it was.

“She’ll be fine. Now that we know what it is, we can treat it, right?” Tyreese asked, rubbing Karen’s arm lovingly. He seemed convinced that it would be fine.

“Treat it?” Brandy hissed, causing everyone to look over at her. “Oh yeah, I forgot, this is the fuckin’ CDC.”

Carol put her hand on Brandy’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

“Oh yeah, that’s right, the CDC is a pile of rubble and this is a goddamn prison, there is no treating this.” She shrugged Carol’s hand off of her shoulder. “This blind hope bullshit is gonna get us all killed,” Brandy cut, before pushing past them and down the hall.

* * *

 Daryl found Brandy sitting outside on one of the benches, watching the fire that Rick had set in the pigs pen after they had killed them all and used them to lure the Walkers on the fence away.  She rested her elbows on her knees, putting a cigarette to her lips and inhaling.  Multiple disgraced cigarette butts were lying on the ground by her boots. She heard him behind her and glanced over her shoulder at him, exhaling the smoke out of her mouth in one quick huff.

“Ya come to check on me?” she asked coldly, as he sat next to her.

“Naw, Carol wanted me to check up on ya,” he said, not catching a glance from her.

“You’re a piss poor fibber, Dixon,”  Brandy uttered, offering him a cigarette. He took one and lit it.

“We’re all getting a little worried about you,” he said.

She looked over at him, her expression speaking of indifference.

“You know what’s funny? The dead are walking the Earth and we surviving. But it wouldn’t be starvin’, or being ripped apart that is our biggest threat.” She chuckled and shook her head. “It’s da fucking swine flu… if that ain’t a dark comedy I don’t know what is,” Brandy said, before getting up and walking away.


	29. Killer Amongst Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry! I haven’t updated this fic in a long time. I have been really busy with other fanfictions, but I’m getting back in the swing of this. Might have typos, it's X-Mas eve and I was in a hurry to get this us.

She stood there looking down at the charred remains. It was obvious to who they belonged to. The smell of burnt hair and flesh was nauseating, resembling the stink of overdone pork. Possibilities ran in her mind as to who could have murdered the both of them, and dragged them outside, and set fire to their bodies as if they were nothing but garbage. Brandy had thought that killing the infected would be the best course action for the safety of the group, but she didn’t expect this.

“Somebody dragged them out here and set them on fire!” Tyreese yelled.

Brandy’s eyes landed on the blood trail on the concrete leading from cellblock. Tyreese stepped towards Rick, a little bit too close. Instantly Brandy and Daryl took his motions for a threat. Carol reached out for Brandy’s hand, her touch insinuating that she should stay out of it.  

“You find out who did this and you bring them to me! You bring them to me!” he yelled.

“Ay man, we’ll find out who did this…” Daryl said, going to take Tyreese by his shoulder, but he pushed him away.

“Watch it…” Brandy warned, feeling the tension rise.

Daryl tried again to calm him down. This time Tyreese grabbed him by his collar and pushed him up against the gate. It happened too quick for her even realize where it was all going. Daryl tried to talk Tyreese down, and so did Rick, but then Tyreese swung at him and punched him in the face.

“Stop!” Carol screamed. Brandy foolishly stepped in between Rick and Tyreese.

“Ay! Don’t you fuckin’ touch him!” she screamed right in his face, both of her arms out, trying to protect Rick from him.

It wasn’t much help though. Tyreese simply threw her out of the way, causing her to fall to the concrete and scrape up her knees. Brandy gritted her teeth and was about to attempt to retaliate, but when she got to her feet again she saw that Rick was now the one swinging on Tyreese. His hand was covered in blood, and Tyreese was on the ground sobbing. She hadn’t seen Rick snap like that since Lori… and they all knew what that was like. Daryl glanced over at Brandy and motioned towards Rick. She didn’t say, anything only nodded.

“Come on Rick,” Brandy said, touching him on his shoulder.

He jumped, and turned to look at her. He was dazed and seemed out of it, holding his bloody hand.

“Yer hurt. Let’s get that taken care of, huh?” she said, with a slightly nervous smile.

He nodded, and she escorted him back inside, turning to look at Carol and Daryl, giving them both concerned looks.

* * *

 

She paced back and forth on the guard bridge, wishing she had something strong to drink to go with her cigarette. Her mind went through people that could have killed Karen and David.  She must have gone through the list of people that resided at the prison with them over six times, trying to remember if anyone displayed warning signs of such behavior. Each time she had come up with nothing. She inhaled sharply, and exhaled the smoke from her noise.

She heard the door clank open, and she glanced over to see Daryl. He didn’t say anything to her, only reached up and pulled the cigarette from her lips, and stepped on it.

“What the hell man?” Brandy asked, lowering her brow.

“Ya been smokin’ too much,” he said, causing her to raise her eyebrow and let out a scoff. “You should stop smoking that shit, ain’t good on ya lungs, especially with this sickness goin’ around.”  

Brandy rolled her eyes and looked towards the yard, seeing Tyreese still out there digging the grave for David and Karen.  He looked down at her, seeing the almost cold expression she had on her face as she watched him struggling to dig a hole in the ground for the woman he cared for.  Daryl shifted nervously from foot to foot before parting his lips to speak.

“Brandy, I gotta ask ya something,” he said, and she turned her head to face him, lowering her over plucked eyebrows.  She was about to say ‘what?’ but she saw the expression on his face.

“You think…I?” she started to say, growing rather offended at his silent accusation.

“I just gotta ask,” he uttered.

Brandy stepped away from the chain link fence and stared at him.

“Ya fuckin’ kidding me… you think I could?” she hissed.

“Killin’ ain’t nothin’ new for ya, you killed three of the Governors men while they were runnin’ away…” he said.

He had been the only one she told after the attempted take over failed and the Governor disappeared. That she had, in the lower level, gunned down three retreating people without any remorse.

“That was different… those were people that were attacking us.  I told you and Rick I was shootin’ to kill that day,” Brandy said, growing more and more emotional. “I can’t believe ya think I could… do what was done to David and Karen. They weren’t ours, but I would never…”

He didn’t say anything to her, only realizing that she wasn’t the same girl that came across in the woods.  He had witnessed what the world had done to the younger people: Beth’s indifference when she found out that Zach had died, Carl’s lack of humanity, and Brandy’s coldness when it came to lives of all she didn’t consider “ours”.

“What the hell does that even mean?” he cut.

“Ya want me to define it for ya!? Ours, means Atlanta and Farm, those people are the ‘group,’ everyone else are extra!” she yelled. “Just keep letting people in, people that are sick that brought it in here.” She passed back and forth with her hands on her head.

“We don’t know if that--” he went to say.

“We do!” she yelled, her voice cutting the summer air. “None of us were sick before we started letting in all the strays.” Daryl was taken back by her frigidness.

“Christ Brandy…” he uttered.

She dropped her arms to her side and looked away from him.

“Stray dogs still don’t deserve to be burnt…” she said. “Pullin’ a trigger of a gun is a lot different than dragging a body from a cell, pouring gasoline on it, and lightin’ a match.”

Brandy’s tone gave off a genuine vibe of innocence when it came to the gruesome double murder.

“I went side and had a smoke, remember? Then I helped Maggie and Glenn dig graves, ya can ask um,” Brandy hissed, before going to push past him, only stopping because of his sudden grasp at her wrist. She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. She was about to curse him out, but he spoke up before she could.

“I believe ya.” His words caused her to soften her hard expression slightly.

“Well, ya know I live to please you,” she said sarcastically, before yanking out of his hold. “Whatever, I mean it’s not like I didn’t give ya reason to question me.” Brandy shrugged. In hindsight, she did come off as suspicious when it came to her lack of caring for the newer people’s lives.

“We’re goin’ on a run. There is a vet clinic that might have some antibiotics. It’s a ways out and we really could use ya. That’s if yer not still mad at me.”

Brandy chuckled and nodded.

“Naw, I’m still fuckin’ mad at you, but how much of a petty bitch would I be if I didn’t go?”

* * *

 

The car was packed. Brandy was sitting between Bob and Tyreese in the back seat.

She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, shifting uncomfortably and wishing she had brought her car as a back up. Tyreese looked down, noticing the scrapes on her knees that he had caused when he pushed her out of the way during the altercation with Rick.

“Hey…” he started, clearing his throat. She glanced over at him. “I’m sorry about pushing you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s whatever.” Brandy shrugged, picking the scab on her knee.

She glanced up at the rear view, catching Daryl’s narrow blue eyes looking back at her. He could tell she still felt some type of way about his accusation by her tight expression. He reached over and turned on the radio. Of course, there was nothing but static.

“Ay, hand me one of those CD’s,” he said to Michonne.

Suddenly there sounded like there was a transition coming through the radio. All of them perked up at the distorted sound.

“Is that a voice?” Bob asked.

“No, it’s gotta be a loop emergency broadcast,” Brandy said, shaking her head.

“Shhh!” Daryl cut in, trying to tune the station to hear what the mysterious voice was saying. All of them strained to listen and focus on the radio.

Suddenly Daryl looked up and gasped, and the car swerved. They barely missed a few Walkers. They looked ahead, and Brandy felt her gut drop. There was a herd of what looked like hundreds of Walkers that started to surround the halted car. He slammed the car in reverse, knocking over Walkers and running them over under the rear wheels.

“We’re gonna get stuck!” Brandy yelped, hearing the dull thumps as the back bumper hit the rotting bodies.

“No we ain’t!” Daryl yelled.

The car revved, but didn’t move, the wheels spinning out on a mound of rot and blood.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Brandy hissed, grabbing her machetes, ready to make a run for it.

“Head for the woods! Don’t stop for nothin’, ya hear me!?” Daryl yelled.

He and Michonne got out, killing as many Walkers that stood between them and woods as they could.

“Hurry up!” Brandy yelled at Bob, whose seat belt was jammed. Brandy wished she hadn’t sat in the middle.

“I’m trying!” Bob yelped. He finally got it, and they both escaped.

She didn’t even realize that Tyreese wasn’t behind them. Brandy didn’t bother killing Walkers, instead running between them and heading to the woods like Daryl had told her. She heard rustling in the brush, and whipped around to see Michonne, Daryl, and Bob.

“Tyreese?” she asked, only to see Michonne shake her head.

But surprisingly, they saw him stagger out of the bush covered in blood and flesh. He panted and staggered to his knees. They heard the gurgling of Walkers on their way towards them. Daryl and Bob grabbed Tyreese and got him to his feet. The four of them knew that they had to be on foot from there on out, and the vet clinic was still a few miles out.


	30. Fall Of the Steel House

It was hot, stifling, humidity hanging in the thick summer air. They had been walking for hours, and Brandy wiped the sweat from her brow as they trudged on.  Daryl glanced over to her as she sighed, holding on to her machetes tightly in her hand. Her eyes darting side to side, making sure there was nothing in the woods that line either side of the road.

“Ya need to sharpen those blades soon,” he said, his voice low in its usual gruff tone.

“Haven’t had time to,”  Brandy shrugged, looking down. The blades really did need some tending to.

They came across what looked like a car repair shop.

“We need to pick up a car, cuz this walkin’ in cutting it,” Brandy said.

“All right there, obvious,” Daryl chuckled.

They found a car, but the battery was dead. Brandy rolled her eyes at the circumstances, and muttered once again about wishing she had taken her car as a back up. The car shop was overgrown with vines and they had to clear a way to get into the door. Nothing too hard. There was a danger that there might be a few walkers hiding in the brush. Brandy glanced over at Tyreese, who was swinging his blade violently.

“Yo, dude. This ain’t the Amazon, calm down,” she said, mostly serious.

Daryl also said something to him, but he didn’t listen, grabbing for the door handle and yanking it roughly. They all looked over at him. He was really starting to be erratic and foolish.  She understood what happened to Karen was horrible, but that was no reason to act stupid. Daryl glanced over at Brandy as she mouthed the words, “crazy ass.” He shook his head.

Suddenly a Walker reached out from the overgrown vines and grabbed at him.

“Shit!” Brandy yelped, as one of them grabbed her by her shirt and yanked at her.

All of the ruckus that Tyreese caused had riled them up. They were attempting to get out of the overgrown vines and attack. Brandy made quick work of the one attacking her, stabbing it though its skull with her blades.  She looked over to see Tyreese struggling with another one. He could have simply stabbed him, but it looked like he was trying to yank him from the overgrowth.

“Ty, let him go!” Michonne yelled, but he didn’t listen, falling backwards with the Walker snapping at him as he tried to push him off. Bob shot it in the head and Tyreese staggered to his feet. Brandy just stared at him with her hands on her hips.

“Why didn’t you let go?” Michonne asked, giving him the same look Brandy was.

“Are you tryin’ to get us all killed or are you just fuckin’ retarded?” Brandy hissed, narrowing her eyes at him before walking away.

* * *

 

Daryl eventually got the van working, and they were on their way to the vet school. Brandy hoped that there would be anything that would help the others. She shuffled through the classroom and picked up whatever she could. By the time she was done her bag was full of medical supplies and full pill bottles. They had picked the place clean of everything that they needed, and it was time to get out of there.

They all cautiously slipped down the darkened hallways and tried to get to the stairs, but the door was chained, and there were Walkers behind it.

“Oh shit,” Brandy said, looking back the way that they came. They had jammed the door to try to stop them from getting through, but they had forced their way through.

“We can take them!” Tyreese said.

“No, they are infected. We could get their blood on us. We didn’t come all the way for nothing,” Bob said.

“We ain’t got no options,” Brandy hissed.

Daryl broke the chain on the door, and Michonne made swift work of the ones behind it. Thank god there were only three. If there had been more, they would have been in trouble.

The upstairs was no better. There were tons of them. There was no exit; they had to break a window and escape that way.

“Bob!” Brandy yelped.

He had slipped on the low roof. He struggled to hold on to this bag as Walkers threatened to yank him down.

“Dude, let the bag go!” she said, as Tyreese and Daryl grabbed him, making sure he wouldn’t fall.

He didn’t, and was able to yank the bag back up.

“What the fuck was that man!?” Brandy yelled. “You almost got yourself killed. We all have a good amount of meds, it would have been—“

She stopped when she looked over and saw what Daryl had pulled from the bag that Bob was so desperately trying to hold on to. It was booze.

“You ain’t got no meds in your bag,” Daryl said lowly. They all stared at Bob; Daryl went to throw the bottle.

“Don’t,” Bob said quickly, putting his hand on the gun.

Brandy reacted to this threat, gripping her machete, ready to kill him if she needed to. Daryl walked over to him and got in his face. She hadn’t seen Daryl react like that in a long time. She had almost forgotten how he had been, ready fight at the drop of a hat. He yanked Bob’s gun out of his holder and grabbed him up by his shirt.

“Let it go Daryl,” Tyreese said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“Fuck that. He put his hand on his gun like he would shoot him… we should leave him…” Brandy said, Michonne looked at her almost in a silent agreement. 

“I didn’t wanna hurt nobody… it was only for when it gets quiet,” Bob said, not able to look at any of them.

Daryl shoved the bottle into his hand, still only an inch away from his face.

“You take one sip before those meds get into our people and I’ll beat your ass into the ground,” he growled. Brandy bit lip at the sound of him.  She mentally kicked herself for even getting turned on at a time like this, but she had to admit… she kind of missed old Daryl and his temper.

“We, uh… we should get back,” she said, trying to hide the tone in her voice.

Daryl stared at Bob before walking away.

* * *

 

Daryl and Brandy sat in the van while Michonne and Tyreese discussed their trip back, and Bob smoked a cigarette. Brandy sat in the back seat while Daryl sat up front, looking a jasper stone he had picked up on their way to the vet clinic.

“You were going to kill him back there, weren’t you?” he asked suddenly.

“Hmm?” She hadn’t heard what he said.

“I saw your hand on your machete. You would have killed him,” he clarified.

Brandy peeked between the seats at him and raised her eyebrows.

“He put his hand on his gun,” she whispered, so Bob wouldn’t hear them. Daryl looked at her. “If he would have drawn on you… yes. I would have killed him.”

Daryl wrinkled his brow at her words.

“You need to get outta that whole ‘shoot first, think later’ bullshit,” he muttered, scolding her for her new aloofness toward people that were outside of who she deemed important.

Brandy chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“You out of all people shouldn’t be telling me to think before I shoot.” She smiled as she ran her finger along the old scar under her collarbone from where he had shot her long ago. “I’m just protective, I guess.” She looked out at Bob and narrowed her eyes at him. She was willing to do anything to protect everyone she thought as hers.

* * *

 

By the time they arrived it was late, and they had to focus on getting the medication to the sick in the wee hours of the morning. Brandy finally passed out. The next morning, Michonne and Hershel had left to get some supplies and would probably be back later on. It seemed like it would be a slow day, and Brandy could finally get back to her duties: laundry detail. It had been neglected for a while, with everything going on with the sickness, but today seemed like a good day, finally calm.

She walked through the C block and peeked in the cells to gather the clothes that most people would throw by the door for her to grab whenever she was going to wash them. She was gathering up Beth’s clothes and putting them in the basket when she heard Daryl.

“Ay,” he said.

She looked over at him. He was standing with Rick. She put the basket down, knowing that something was wrong.

“What?”

Rick let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked around to see if anyone else was there. The block was empty minus them.

“Tell her,” Daryl said, folding his arms.

“Tell me what?” Brandy walked over to them, now worried. Rick sighed and put his hands on Brandy’s shoulders. “This is getting strange….”

“Carol killed Karen and David,” Rick said.

Brandy blinked, and then chuckled.

“What?”

“She killed them, and then burned them,” he said, watching her expression change.

“Okay… so...”

“I had to make a call.”

Brandy’s eyes widened.

“I had to leave her behind.”

Brandy pushed him back, her mouth dropping open.

“I know you two are close and I—“

“What the fuck!?” she yelled, her voice filling the block.

“She couldn’t be here, Brandy, she—“

“You don’t get to make that call!” Brandy hissed, getting in his face. Her lip tensed as she started to cry. “That’s Carol…you left Carol!” she screamed.

Daryl didn’t say anything. He knew she would react that way, and to him, she had every right to.

“Remember when you said you didn’t want to be the leader anymore? Huh?! We had a fucking council to handle shit like that, and you took it upon yourself to just kick her out without talking to anyone!?” Brandy turned and paced, putting her hands on her head.

“She killed them and burned them, Brandy. You have to understand that she wasn’t sorry…”

Before Daryl could stop her, Brandy ran back up to Rick and slapped him across his face. Rick was stunned at the reaction. He stepped back and put his hand on his face.

“Ay!” Daryl said, grabbing Brandy. “Enough.” She still tried to yank out of his grasp.

“She thought she could stop it with those two, she was trying to protect the group! Maybe if you would have thought about protecting the group like she did… when you had the chance to kill Andrew, maybe Lori and T-dog would still be alive,” Brandy hissed with venom, cutting him deep in the only way she knew she could.

He didn’t say anything as she yanked out of Daryl’s grasp.

“Fuck you, Rick,” she jeered before she stormed out of the cellblock.

* * *

 

She had her hand in the murky bucket of water, scrubbing away, still seething with anger at what he had done. How he could think that was okay? Yes, Carol did something, something morally wrong, but sometimes you had to. Sometimes you had to go against everything you know to survive.

Brandy sighed, about to ring out a shirt, when there was a loud boom that caused her to scream as it shook the whole prison. She dropped everything and grabbed her gun and machetes off of the table before running out of the cell block.

They ran to the gate and saw him, the Governor, on the other side of the fence. And he had Hershel and Michonne.

They had a plan. They always had a plan, just in case. The woods, or even better, make it to the bus. But it went all went south when the Governor raised Michonne’s sword as Rick was trying persuade him that war didn’t need to happen. There was no peace, there wouldn’t be any peace with him. He brought the sword down and sliced through Hershel neck.

There was the sound of Beth and Maggie’s screams cutting through the summer air before the gunshots. The governor’s tank pulled forward and destroyed the fence.

“Ah!” Brandy screamed, having to duck when the tank aimed right at C block and blew a massive hole in it.

“You guys have to get out of here!” she screamed at Sasha and Bob.

“What about you!?” Sasha screamed.

“I’m going to cover the bus!” Brandy yelled.

She looked around for the others, but she didn’t see them. Brandy’s main focus was killing anyone and everyone that was with the Governor. She shot a woman in the head, and then a man, before hearing Walkers shuffle behind her. There were far more than she could handle, and they were getting closer.

“Fuck!!” she screamed.

She looked around. She had to leave, but she couldn’t find anyone.

“Rick!! she cried, now in a panic.

She tried to call out for anyone left. When she yelled, a Walker lunged at her, almost knocking her back, but she regained her footing and cut its head off.

“Daryl!?” Brandy shrieked again, at the top of her lungs, but to her sorrow, there was once again nothing. And she knew if she stayed, she would be nothing too. She hung her head and looked at the prison one more time before she ran. Her home burned, smoking from flames, and now she was back to how Daryl had found her, alone… once again, abandoned.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where I Brandy going to go? Does she find the group soon?
> 
> Whoooo knows. Lets see what season 5 brings us :)


	31. Fade to Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, now that season 5 is on mid-season break I feel that I know enough to start to continue the story. This chapter is going to be long, and it jumps around a lot and picks up right after the prison falls and in to the very end of season 4. Seeing as the group is rather fragmented after the prison I felt that the flow of this first chapter should be like that as well. If it feels ‘broken’ then good, that’s what I was going for.

  
**The Prison: One month ago.**

* * *

 

_Brandy undid the buttons of her shirt in the dark guard tower. It slipped off and fell to the floor. She could only make out Daryl’s silhouette, lit by the moonlight outside that was coming through the windows. She went to walk towards him, but she almost tripped on something. He chuckled at her in the dark._

_“Shut up,” Brandy whispered, as she flicked her hair out of her eyes and grabbed him by his belt._

_“Relax,” Daryl snickered._

_“Dude, I seriously need to get off,” Brandy said, undoing her bra and dropping it to the floor._

_“Is that all you think about?” he asked, undoing his belt._

_“What?_ Are ya gonna write _me a love sonnet, Dixon?”_

 _“Will you shut the_ fu _\---“ His words were cut short, stopped by a moan that she wrenched from him as she slipped her hand down his jeans to rub his cock. He groaned as she started to stroke him._

_“Fuck,” Daryl whispered, causing Brandy to smile with wicked satisfaction._

_“I’m not here to just give ya a hand job, Daryl,” she whispered._

_He pushed her up against the wall, causing her gasp at the cold concrete at her bare back. He kissed her, causing her to groan uncomfortably at the tender act. Neither of them were the most adept people when dealing with intimacy. Brandy’s mental state when it came to sex was cut and dry: it was sex and nothing else. She would have preferred for Daryl to be the same, but he wasn’t. Under his tough facade, he was way more of a gentleman than the other men she had fucked._

_Brandy bit her lip as Daryl’s mouth dropped to her neck, one of his hands moving to fondle her tits._

_“Will you just fuck me already?” Brandy asked. Daryl turned her around, and Brandy hurried to pull her shorts down._

_“You are seriously begging’ for it,” Daryl chuckled, grabbing her by her hips and pushing her down a bit more._

_“Shut up, redneck, and— ahh!” Brandy squeaked when he pushed into her with ease._

_Daryl moaned and threw his head back. She wasn’t lying when she said that she desperately needed to get laid. Daryl didn’t make a smartass comment about how wet he made her, only holding on to that fact and savoring it for himself. Brandy rested her palms on the cold concrete wall as he stroked in and out of her._

_“Ah…yes,” Brandy whispered, as he picked up his pace. He cocked one hand back and landed a slap on her right ass cheek. The sting caused Brandy to gasp and giggle breathlessly. Daryl wasn’t sure what it was, or why, but there were moments with her when his insecurities would disappear, driving him for a few moments to do things that he would normally be too nervous to do._

_“Harder,” Brandy whispered, pushing her ass back on to him in an attempt to feel him deeper._

_“No,” he said simply, before he reached around to rub her clit._

_“Oh! Fuck!” Brandy whimpered as he kept fucking her._

_He could feel that she was close by the quivering in her cunt and the arching of her back._

_“_ Ahh _… don’t stop. Ah! Yes, like that…” Brandy whimpered, clenching her eyes shut._

_Daryl felt the tightening in his lower abdomen. He clenched his teeth and tried his best to hold back. Without warning, Brandy threw her head back and clenched up around him, her legs shaking as she almost lost her balance, but Daryl held her up. She fought to hold his name back as she came, but she lost that battle._

_“Ah— fuck.”_

_Daryl didn’t stop, now fucking her desperately. The coiling pressure finally gave way and he pulled out quickly._

_“Shit-- ahh-- good lord,” he moaned as he finished himself with his hand and came on the floor. Brandy pulled her shorts back up and looked around for her bra and top, while Daryl panted, still high his post orgasmic haze._

_“God, I feel much better after that,”  Brandy said, slipping her shirt back on. Daryl didn’t say anything back, only buttoning his pants back up._

_“We really should get back,” he said._

_“Yeah, we all know how Rick gets when he can’t find you,” Brandy pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her shorts pocket. She slipped one in her mouth and offered him one. “We have time for a smoke_ tho _, right?” Daryl took one of the menthol cigarettes._

_“Yeah, I guess,” Daryl said._

_Brandy pulled out her book of matches from her back pocket and lit one. The flame lit her face, the orange glow making her features visible in the dark. She was far thinner than she had been when he first met her. Back then, almost three summers ago, her cheeks had fullness to them, but now they were gaunt, and hollow. The scars down the right side of her face had dimmed, and he knew now that she had no vision left in her right eye from her injury. Brandy had lost almost all of what he assumed was baby fat. She was now all prodding ribs and sharp shoulders. Daryl would have been a fibber if he said that didn’t prefer her how she had been, thick-thighed and slightly chunky._

_“What?” she asked, snapping him from his thoughts as she lit her cigarette._

_“Nothin’.”_

_Brandy shrugged and threw him the book of matches. She took a long drag and blew the smoke out of her nose._

_“Ya’ know…” she paused and leaned up against the wall, looking out to the prison yard. “I love this place more than the farm… it’s home.”_

* * *

 

There was nothing left, only the same silence that Brandy knew before three summers ago. Everything had repeated, like it was on a painful endless loop, a sick joke and her existence was the punch line. Once again, in the woods alone, nothing but the trees and the empty space between them.

Brandy moved her hand up and scratched the raised, faded scar under her collarbone. The scar that she gained when he shot her with his arrow so long ago. Now Brandy had wished that she had been closer when he shot. Never before had she wished that she had died that day. Anything would have been better than the pain she had now.  There was nothing but sorrow and bitterness for her.

“I wish I never…” she muttered, but stopped short of finishing, not daring to speak it.  Everything ended exactly how she thought, her alone and alive while everyone else had died.  “I’m so fuckin’ stupid to think…” Brandy whispered as her stomach rumbled, desperate for anything to eat.

Brandy wasn’t sure how many days it had been since the prison fell. Her best guess, from her hunger, was that it had to be going on three or four. The days had bled together, dropping in coherence. She had thought about doubling back, but knew that if anyone was still there they would already be dead, or they would have been Walkers by now. Brandy couldn’t face that possibility. The sight of that would kill her. Not figuratively. She thought that she would actually die if she saw any of them like that.

With a sigh, she hung her head and kept walking through the mud. If she had one, just one, person with her… hell, she would have settled on being lost with Bob as long as it meant she didn’t have to be alone there in that that thick heat and roaring silence.

“Oh all the money that e'er I spent…” she started to sing, remembering the song that Beth sung around the campfire the first night they got to the prison. “I spent it in good company… And all the harm that e'er I've done…” Brandy’s voice cracked as she stumbled in the mud. “Alas, it was to none but me…” Her eyes brimmed over with tears and she fell to her knees.

“Oh God… oh my god… I can’t do this…” she sobbed, her whole exhausted body shuddering. She grabbed a fist full of her dirty, frizzy hair, and yanked, wanting to substitute the emotional pain for something physical, for something else than what she felt. She thought that it would all be okay, that she would grow old there, that the prison would be her home for the rest of her life, and she wouldn’t lose people to violence anymore.  Brandy yanked on her hair and screamed.

“So fuckin’ stupid-- I’m so fuckin’ stupid.”

* * *

 

“So Daryl... can I ask you something?” Beth asked, as they sat on the porch of the dumpy home that they found a stash of moonshine in. The sun was starting to set in Georgia, sinking behind the tree line in an orange dusk.

“Depends on what it is,” Daryl said, as he dug his knife into the wooden slats of the porch.

“Okay, so you... and Brandy are a thing, right?” the blonde asked, with a curious smile and raised eyebrows.

“I don’t know what ya talkin’ about,” Daryl said, looking at her and trying to keep a stony expression.

“You’re a shit liar, Dixon, and you know it,” she laughed. “It was sooo obvious.”

“What?” Daryl snapped, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He really didn’t want to talk about that with Beth.

“Haha! You thought it was secret or something?” Beth laughed, putting her hand to her chest. "One time me and Zach even saw you guys sneaking into the guard tower at night.”

Daryl covered his face and let out a low, mortified groan.

“How long have guys…”

“I really don’t wanna talk about this.”

“Aww! Come on, don’t make it weird, it’s just a conversation. I’m so curious how that even happened. “ Daryl shot her a look. “I mean, Brandy doesn’t seem to be your type.”  Beth adjusted her wording, realizing how her words might have sounded. Daryl could tell she wasn’t going to let the topic go.

“No, she wasn’t…” he muttered.

“Because she’s black?” Beth asked bluntly, the moonshine making her a bit too forward.

“Yeah...” he answered with honesty, as he looked towards the tree line. “And, well, she's...” Daryl paused and chewed his nails.  “I, uh… never had much luck with girls because I just, I don’t know… I just…” He kept digging the blade of his knife into the wood of the porch. “Most of the chicks I got with were just sluts that me and Merle partied with. Ya know, not because they liked me or anythin’ like that, but because I was there and we were drunk.”

Beth looked at him and felt a pang of hurt in her heart for him.

“So, how did you guys end up..." Beth shifted her weight slightly. "Well, you know."

“You expect some romance novel bullshit? Brandy asked me one day if I wanted to fuck and we did.” He shrugged. “When she asked, I thought she was fuckin’ with me… I thought she was jerking with me.”

“Why would you think that?” Beth asked. She understood the mindset, but she didn’t expect it from him. That thought process was something that teenage girls had.

“Why would she wanna fuck me?” he asked, remembering how he felt when Brandy ask him the loaded question back when they were at the farm.

“Oh, please.” Beth sighed as she rolled her eyes and grabbed her drink. “I know why she did. You’ve survived this long, you’re brave, strong, and she thinks you're hot,” Beth said, as she brought the cup to her mouth and took a sip, wincing at the burn at the back of her throat.

Daryl had an awkward time accepting her compliment.

“Wait, you said you and Zack saw us?” he asked, wanting to get the focus off of him.

“Yep.”

“What were you two doing wandering around at night?”

Beth looked down at his question and picked at her jeans. “We wanted a place to hide out, too…”

She saw Daryl’s expression change slightly.

“Not to do it!” Beth said, trying to backtrack. “We just fooled around a little bit."

“Okay, yeah, I don’t need to know all of that,” Daryl muttered shaking his head.

“When we saw you guys, you were tryin’ to be all sneaky and stuff, looking around making sure no one was watching you. It was cute.” Beth smiled and lifted her glass again to her lips but she stopped. “Can I ask you something else?”

“You been nosey all night, why stop now?” he scoffed.

“Are you in love with her?”

Beth’s question hung the in the muggy twilight air between them. Daryl looked down to the blade of his knife, too embarrassed to meet the young woman’s blue gaze.

“Honestly? I don’t know what being in love feels like…” he confessed.

Beth sighed sadly for him. She had been in love before, and it might have been fleeting puppy love, but at least she had tasted it.

“You will one day… I know it,” she said, with a smile and a nod.

Daryl didn’t speak. Love was for dreamers, and that wasn’t the kind of person he was. What he felt for Brandy wasn’t what Maggie and Glenn had, but possibly something more clinical. Love was heady, filled with sighs and whispers, but with Brandy he had a clear cut understanding where the lines were. He cared for her, he loved her, but in love was a different thing. They had been friends, plus something more; both of them used the other for a basic human need and want. In those hot, balmy moments when they could find a place away from the others, there was a flicker, a ghost of what she could have possibly been to him. In another life, under extraordinary circumstances, maybe they could have been in love.

But the life they had was the only one they knew, and in that world full of the dead, Brandy had been his friend, a connection different than the one he had with Rick or Carol, but no less important to him. And like all the others, she was gone, and for him it was easier to imagine her dead than the idea of her being out there scared and alone.

* * *

 

There was the distant, muddy sound of a baby crying. Brandy rubbed her sweaty face, and the cries persisted, waking her out of her daze.

“Someone… someone get Judith…” she muttered with exhaustion.  

Suddenly the cry changed to a pained shriek, sending her into a panic. Brandy sat up in a drenched sweat, the high sunlight burning her eyes when flung them open. There was nothing but the tall grass of the field where she had fallen when her body had given out from exhaustion.

She sat there for a second, swallowing a mouth of dryness. A buzzard flew above her, as if waiting for her to die so it could pick the meat from her bones. There was no Judith. The sound of her was nothing more than an imprinted sound of what she was used to at the prison. The baby girl would awake in the middle of the night, and cry until Rick would pick her up. He would hold her and hum her back to sleep.

Brandy counted on her fingers. “Five days…?” she muttered, unsure of how long it had been since the fall of prison happened.

“Get up,” she told herself, as she grabbed up a hand full of grass. “Get the fuck up.”

She forced herself up. Her legs shook and she almost fell back down to the dirt, but she fought it off and continued to nowhere, headed to no one. She staggered back through the woods. She need to cut through them to get to the road. She had been staying back, just in case she found one of the others. The rest of the crew would have stayed in the woods, because of the cover they had, but now, days later, she had only come across a few footprints in the mud. She couldn’t track them any further.  She knew that she couldn’t stick to the woods and the little shacks that littered the area; if she had any hope of staying alive, she would have to move on.

She sighed as she moved through the woods, hearing a few Walkers to her right. She ignored them. There was no reason to even waste what little strength she had to put them down. Her right wrist caught on a brush branch, snagging the pink and purple star bracelet she wore and ripping the elastic. The bracelet snapped from her brown wrist without her knowing.

* * *

 

He kept thinking about how Beth was taken, the car with the cross squealing out right after he found her bag in the road. He had run to try to catch her, calling her name, but he couldn’t run fast enough. He didn’t stop trying to track her down until the sun started to rise, but it wasn’t enough… it had never been enough.

In some ways losing Beth was worse than Sophia, because she didn’t just run off. Worse than Carol, who was cast out, and even worse than Brandy, who, like the others, was forced to run her life. Beth was taken, and he didn’t know by whom, or why, but some of his own conclusions as to the reason made him ill.

Daryl stayed silent as he walked along with the men that found him on the road. The Claimers, he had dubbed them, because of their simple rule: you find something, you say ‘claimed’.  He kept his head low, not wanting to talk about anything or anyone. He wanted to leave, but he didn’t have it in him to be alone. He wasn’t strong enough, not after everything that happened. He lingered behind, thinking only of the people he lost and his home that was now a smothering death trap.

He glanced down, his eyes catching colors that didn’t belong. He blinked, making sure he wasn’t seeing things. When he refocused his blue eyes, he knew that, sure enough, there was something pink sticking out from the leaves. He bent down and swept away the leaves.

“Shit,” he whispered, as he picked up the broken bracelet. His hand shook as he looked down at the pink and purple beads on the sting that graced her arm no more than a day ago, by the placement of it on the ground. His lips twitched with a small smile. She couldn’t be far. All he had to do was pick up her tracks and he had a chance to find her.

Daryl’s excitement was diminished as soon as realized that, if he left the Claimers, he could lead them right to her. He stared down at the bracelet before looking to see if she had left any boot prints. Size 7, unique zigzag sole pattern. He saw it. She had veered off to the right. The men he was with... he couldn’t just go, they might follow, and if they did, he didn’t know what they would do her. He didn’t trust them, not with her.  

“Hey, what you got there?” the leader asked him. Daryl slipped the bracelet in his pocket.

“Claimed,” he said simply, before continuing on.

Brandy was alive, and if she could stay that way, he could find her… at least that was something.

 


	32. No Sanctuary

**THEN: Before the Prison.**

* * *

_They had been doubling back and forth all winter long, getting cut off by packs of walkers each time they tried to make it further to the coast. But today, out of all the horrible days, this one had been good. They had come across a rather large house that they hadn't picked through already. There were a few cans of beans, corn and peanut butter. Not much, but it was something to eat.. The place had only two walkers bumbling about, and they made quick work of them. It, like all the other houses they found would only last the night, and then they would have to keep moving, always running. Brandy was upstairs in one of the bedrooms, scrounging around for anything they could use. She rummaged through a drawer, obviously once belonging to a possibly middle aged woman at one point. She hummed as she pulled out a gray shirt and held it up to her chest. She looked at herself in the attached dresser mirror. She was considerably thinner now than she had been, they all had lost weight due to the lack of food, but this had been the first time she really had a chance to look at self in a while. Brandy dropped the shirt to the floor and examined her body in the mirror. She lifted her top and could see the ridges of her ribs under her brown skin. They had never been visible before; she had always been a 'thick' girl, but now the suppleness that she thought was alluring had almost vanished. Brandy jumped when she heard someone at the door; she looked around and saw Daryl standing in the doorway, staring at her holding a can of baked beans._

_"I was just, uh looking' for stuff." Brandy said quickly._

_"Ya' find anything?" He asked stepping in. She nodded and motioned towards the bed, where she had laid her findings out._

_"Shit yeah, there was some nice loot in the upstairs bathroom. We got new toothbrushes, toothpaste, fuckin' deodorant, some over the counter pain meds and…" She reached and grabbed a perception bottle "Fuckin' Vicodin!"_

_"Good job." Daryl grunted as he walked over to her. "You haven't eaten yet, have ya?"_

_Brandy shook her head and looked at him._

_"Did Lori eat yet?" she asked, and he couldn't help but smile at how concerned she was about the baby._

_"Yeah, she ate already. Come on, you gotta eat somethang'" Daryl said, offering the can to Brandy._

_"I ain't hungry for baked beans." She uttered, causing him to raise his eyebrows at her. Daryl licked his fingers clean before he sat the can of beans down on the dresser. He backed up and shut the bedroom door slowly. "We should make it quick." Brandy said, knowing that if they took too long someone was bound to notice that they were missing._

_"Well stop fuckin' talkin' and get—" he was going to say 'and get to it, then' but before he could finish his sentence Brandy stepped towards him. Her hands grabbing him by his leather vest, yanking him towards her. She had a force behind her when she kissed, all demanding and wanting to dominate, but Daryl was good at knocking her down a peg. Matching her sexual control with a tenderness that caused her to soften just long enough for him to gain the upper hand. He cupped her under her chin, and kissed her gently, much to his surprise, she moaned enjoying it for a moment. Her hands clawed at his pants, desperate to get them undone. Daryl kissed her jaw line, he heard her let out a hiss and he knew that he had pushed it too far. She had a long list of things that were acceptable when it came to their little arrangement. Nothing too sweet, nothing that could be seen as 'romantic' nothing that made it seem like something else was between them. They were friends, who fucked from time to time. Mutual gain, she gets off, he gets off. Nothing more, but he had those slipping moments when he reacted outside of those rules. He could feel the young man that yearned for affection shine through, if only for a second before being turned down by Brandy's almost pained plea of rejection. The worst part was how he knew she liked it; he could feel her lean into to him, with closed eyes and a dreamy expression coming over her pretty face before she snapped out of it._

_"Just fuck me." Brandy uttered, desperately as she grabbed his cock. He bucked and bit hip as he looked at her. She didn't look away from him as she undid her jean tattered jean shorts she went to pull them down, but Daryl grabbed, turned her around and pushed her face forward against the wall. Brandy snickered against the ugly wallpaper as Daryl yanked her shorts down and pushed himself against her. He gritted his teeth and tried to thrust into her, but Brandy yelped in pain._

_"I ain't wet enough yet." She whispered. Daryl groaned and spit on this fingertips and applied it to his cock before trying again. Brandy gasped as he slipped into her and she heard him utter 'fuck' as he pushed all the way in._

_"Am I hurtin' you?" he asked, it had been a while since they messed around._

_"Nah—I'm good." Brandy whispered. Daryl grabbed her hips and started to thrust, slowly at first, but Brandy pushed back against him. He obliged her and pumped faster, he slipped his hand between her legs and rubbed her clit. Brandy groaned and threw her head back._

_"Fuck…" she breathed as she clawed at the wall in front of her. "Ahh—don't stop." Brandy whimpered, involuntarily clenching her legs together. Daryl stifled a moan as she tightened around him, and whined desperately. Those sweeping moments were the only ones were the only ones that he saw her as delicate and his only wish was that he could see her face. Knowing that her expression took on an almost languorous pain, her eyebrows wrinkling as if she were going to cry, mouth dropping open, and eyes rolling in their sockets. But she didn't yelp in agony, but rather, uttering his name…"Ah---Daryl." With those simple words and sounds he could forget for a single second their woe._

* * *

**NOW:**

* * *

It was all happening so fast, Daryl panted and tripped as they dragged him, Rick, Glenn and Bob out of the boxcar. His head was ringing from the kick that someone had just given him and through his hazy consciousness, he blinked and could hear a saw buzzing in the background and the sharping of knives. It had been stupid to go there, Terminus was a trap. Of course it was, why would anyone advertise sanctuary or safety? He groaned at the taste of the dirty gag in his mouth and pulled at his binds, he tried to loosen them but it was no good. He was certain he was living his last moments, and fragmented thoughts came to him.

There was a fleeting image of his mother and how he could only remember in parts. Mousy brown hair, matted eyelashes from crying, hollow cheeked and gray eyes. He could only remember her voice as she said certain words. His name and 'I love you.' Were clearest and in that moment he heard her for a second. She had been a good woman given her circumstance, getting pregnant at a young age to a man that didn't love her and beat her everyday but she stayed because she had no where else to go. She tried her best to give both of her sons love, but no matter how she tried she couldn't protect them from horrible life they had at the hands of their father. He remembered the bruises she had and as a young boy he couldn't do anything to protect her. He could still recall seeing the house burn down with her inside, a single lit cigarette on a bed sheet being the thing to snatch his mama away.

He thought about Merle, and the bullshit they got up to before the world ended. They fought a lot, but they also had some good times together. Drifting about aimlessly, doing whatever they wanted. Neither of them had been the best people, violent drunks who didn't care about anyone. Daryl though that Merle would never change, but proved him wrong. He had been right about The Governor and even tried to save them, his first and last selfless act. He wondered what Merle would have been like if he lived and got the same chance to be a better person.

They dragged them through a large room, where there were a few other men, bound and gagged kneeling over a trough. He looked over at Rick but gained no comfort, for his best friend seemed miles away in his mind. He would die there, but his mind flickered to thoughts Carol was. Where was she? Did she find shelter? She had grown so much, since he met her at the Atlanta camp so long ago. Then she couldn't protect her daughter, let alone herself. He remembered her crying when Sophia came out of the barn, her sobs filling his mind. If he could have seen the woman she would become he wouldn't have believed it, from a wilted Cherokee Rose to steel. How this world could change a person…. Same thing with Beth, she had grown as well, from the scared White Rabbit of a girl that tried to slit her wrists open with broken glass to someone with faith. How optimistic she was, never giving hope that the people they loved were still alive…she was right but now she was the one that was gone and soon he would be too. Much like his mother, and Sophia he couldn't protect her either.

He shuddered as he watched as two of their captors, clad in blood stained plastic walk to the last guy in line. One of the men drew back the baseball bat he was carrying and there was the loud ping of it cracking up against his skull. The other man, brandishing a knife grabbed the unconscious man by his hair and slit his throat. Daryl's eyes widened, but he didn't make a sound, not a whimper nor gagged yell, nothing. His mind snapping to one of the most tangible things he could hold on to in his last moments. The feeling of Brandy's lips on his, the sound of her voice whispering his name in an enclosed space, the earthy scent of her hair and the smell of the summer sunlight on her skin. He clung desperately to how in those heated moments with her, she made him infinitely more of a man and worth something than any other girls he had fucked. He knew that they both had a hard time with 'feelings' due to their own baggage, but he held on to the silent moments in afterglow with her where he could pretend that situations were different….

Daryl and agreed to meet death, he had given up. It was over, but little did he know that one of his pre-death thoughts would save all of them.

* * *

Carol looked around at the group she just saved, the group who's leader recently cast her out for the things that she had done to keep them all safe. But there were two faces missing amongst them. Carol wrinkled her brow.

"Beth?" she asked, noticing Daryl's expression as soon as she said the young blondes sane,

"She was taken…" He uttered looking down to leave covered ground, replaying the night that Beth was kidnapped. Carol narrowed her eyes slightly and shifted from one foot to the other.

"What about Brandy? Is she dead?" Carol asked, her question loaded with worry for the young woman who she had grown to care for over time. She had been expecting be re-united with her just as much as she had been with Daryl, but the lack of Brandy's presence was glaring to her.

"No ones seen her since the prison." Rick utter and Abraham scoffed.

"Listen, I don't want to interject here but we need to get going." He ordered but no one listened.

"She's alive." Daryl said putting his hand in his vest pocket and pulling out the broken pink and purple star bracelet. Carol stared at it, the significance behind it was lost to everyone but her and Daryl. "I found it two days ago." Carol reached out for the bracelet, touching the plastic beads tenderly. Her mind recalling when Daryl had told her that the item had sentiments behind it connected to the memory of her own daughter.

"Well, if anyone can make it, it's her." Carol nodded with an impassive shrug as she started to lead the group to where Tyreese and Judith where.

"Wait, you're not worried about your friend?" Rosita asked, a little putt off by how calm they were being about a missing female of their group.

"Believe me, she'll be fine." Daryl told her.

* * *

A black fly landed on her bloody motionless knee, the tickling sensation causing her to twitch. Her eyes slowly slid open, her mind took a moment to struggle to remember where she was. A shack that she had stumbled across, taking shelter there for the night in the hopes that in the morning she would be strong enough to continue to nowhere. But she felt even weaker than she had before sleeping. The fly on her knee moved and she smacked at it, but missed and it buzzed off. Her stomach growled demanding attention, she couldn't just lie there, she had to get up and tried to continue. Brandy grabbed up her machetes and slowly fought to her weak legs, but felt the room spin. It was hot; she was sweating dehydrated, hungry, scared and alone.

 _"Brandy."_ she turned and looked around the rundown shack, but there was no one there. She blinked quickly and shook her head.

"The fuck?"

 _"Brandy"_ This time the owner of the voice was clear, someone she hadn't heard in a long time, someone that couldn't be there.

"Chris?" she whispered, the name of her little brother. She swayed backwards and looked, but there was only his voice.

_"They are all dead."_

"Please…" Brandy said to herself.

_"What did you expect?"_

"Please leave me alone…" She whispered growing dizzy.

_"They're all gone…"_

"Stop." Brandy tried to make it to the door, but her body gave way under exhaustion and she fell to the dirty wooden floor.

_"Maggie, Glenn, Rick, Carl, Carol…. Daryl… all of them they are all dead…"_

"Shut up!" Brandy screamed, putting her hands over her hears but she could still hear him inside of her head, taunting her with her failings, and guilt. Brandy curled up on the floor, sobbing aware that she was losing her mind, but ignorant to the black smoke that lifted just above the horizon and why.


	33. Gone Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note: This chapter contains things that can be very triggering to some. If you're unsure about this one I would suggest just skipping it. My next update I will include trigger free previous chapter summery so people who skip this one can still know what happened.

Brandy laid there, motionless. Only winching one eye at the pain in her arm, silently cursing herself for being dumb enough to climb through the broken shack window, cutting her arm up in the process.  The simple action of trying to find shelter had taken the last bit of her energy, she simply had nothing left. She licked her dry lips; the stiffening effects of dehydration had started to take over. Her head hurt, the muscles of her legs burned, screaming for water, but there was none. She could smell the blood, seeping from the cut, metallic inkiness filling the stale small cabin air. Time had melted together, The Prison seemed like a faint memory. Had it been weeks? She had traveled far, but she didn’t know where she was ad it didn’t matter. She wanted to cry, but there was no water to send to her tear ducts. Her hazy thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a thump from outside. She didn’t react; it was a walker more than likely a walker. She closed her eyes, knowing that if she went to sleep there was a chance she wouldn’t wake.

“Fitting,” she whispered bitterly, the girl with the gift, the girl that got bit and lived through it would die alone, from a lack of food and drink. She always pictured that her life and death, her worth something, in the beginning she had thought she would find others like her. Maybe she would have a child who shared her genetic gift and then that child would have another and from her could spring society again and she could die of old age at peace. Over time, that became a pipe dream, but she still held on to the fact that she was this thing, this ‘live walker’ for a reason. Maybe there were still scientists locked in an unknown bucker that could find the cure from inside of her, but Jenner was the last and the CDC was gone nothing more than a pile of rubble now. As time went on, being important to the world meant less and less to her as long as she died protecting someone she cared about, she would gladly suffer for any of them, at least when the light left her eyes she could know that it was for something. But now alone, she realized that there was no reason for her, that she didn’t exist to be a savior or a martyr, that whatever processes inside of her that made her smell like nothing to the dead honestly meant little if anything at all. Death would greet her just like the billions of others that died from the infection. There was another aloud bang from the door that snatched her from fading thoughts. Brandy opened her eyes and her dimming confused mind couldn’t’ make sense at what it saw so it betrayed her and fabricated something it wanted to see the most.

“Daryl….” Brandy whispered, looking back at he narrowed eyed shade of him. She moved her arm, wanting to touch his face, but her body couldn’t even summon the energy to preform the simple motion. “Oh—I’m so happy to see you—I thought—“ she blinked her dry eyes, and once she reopened them the hallucination had shifted. Brandy wrinkled her brow in confusion. “Ca-Carol?” She asked, her small weak voice shaking. Her eyes blinked in reaction, trying to make sense of what was happening and then a sick twisting tattling fear slithered through her when she realized that the person above her wasn’t someone she knew and the only thing she could do in reaction to the horror of the unknown was to scream.

* * *

The image had replayed over and over again in his mind. How Beth’s head flung back once the bullet blew the back of her skull out, the warm tiny splatter of her blood that misted his face.  Endless repeat, over and over and over again and he couldn’t escape it no matter how much he prayed he could forget it.

_“You’re going to miss me when I’m gone…”_ she had said, like an oracle of her own impending doom. He had failed to protect someone again.

First, there was mother, who suffered the hits from his father, then Sophia, who he almost died to find but his blood shed for her meant nothing, now Beth, whose light had be extinguished so harshly right after he found her again.

He slipped his hand in his pocket, fingering the beads he had found from Brandy’s broken pink and purple star bracelet. Her alive image was the only faith, even though he knew deep down inside he knew would never see her again, never hear her laugh or speak his name in that harsh twang-y tone. He still held on to the wishful image of her of her behind the wheel of a car driving far away, finding somewhere safe, and living a life. That years from then she would be the last one standing, and after he died, she would remember him where ever she was.

Daryl kept his eyes down on the hot pavement, but stopped when he saw something in the muddy shoulder of the road.  Carol looked up at him as he slowly bent down. The group all slowed down their aimless trudge and looked back at him.  

“What is it?” Rick asked, walking over to Daryl with baby Judith in his arms. Daryl didn’t say anything, his eyes focusing on the muddy series of size 7 boot prints, with the unique zigzag pattern.

“This is Brandy’s boot,” he whispered, sticking his finger in the mud.

“She’s on foot?” Glenn asked, glancing over to Maggie, who didn’t seem to register much of what was happening through her own grief.

“Yeah, this is about two days old.” Daryl uttered, looking towards the woods where the prints led off to. “ Fuck this, I’m goin’ after her.”

“Wait, I’m coming too.” Carol said quickly.

“The woods are too dangerous for all of to go in there.” Rick spoke, looking down at his cooing baby girl.

“We can wait here…we need a rest anyway.” Michonne said from beside Rick.

“Two days seems like a long time, how do you even know—“ Abraham started to say, but Daryl snapped his narrowed glare over to him

“She’s alive,” he hissed before him and Carol headed off into the woods.

* * *

 

Carol watched Daryl as followed the trail; he was focused, but there was an obvious hint of desperation on his face as he looked around. They came to a dead walker and Daryl looked at the killing blow.

“That’s a blade wound.”

“Yeah, looks like a machete.” Carol nodded, as they continued through the thick brush.

“She’s weak.” Daryl said.

“How can you tell?”

“Her strides are short, like she’s limpin’.

“So she’s injured?” Carol asked, looking down at the obviously distressed footprints.

“She might be, but I don’t see any blood she might have sprained something or is just exhausted—“ he stopped his sentence abruptly, when he saw another set of tracks, this one coming from the right and then joining with Brandy’s. “Shit.”

“What?”

“Someone was followin’ her.” He bent down to get a better look at the print. “A man…” Daryl looked at Carol and the sense of urgency was amplified in that second of realization. He took off running, following the tacks with Carol right behind him.  His mouth was dry, his heart racing as he thought of all of the horrible things that he could find where the prints ended.

“Look!” Carol chirped and he glanced up to see a shack. Neither of them took the time to survey the area, only following both sets of tracks to the rickety wooden door. Daryl gritted his teeth and kicked the door open. The stale hot shack air hit him in the face, but as his eyes focused he realized that there was nothing there. He dropped his shoulders and just stood there-it was completely empty.

“Oh no…” he whispered, staggering inside the tiny space. The only window was broken, shards of glass littering the dusty floor.  He heard Carol sigh behind him as he moved to the center of the room. He beat down, and put his hand on the area where the dust had been displaced. She had laid there, less than 48 hours ago. Daryl swallowed, seeing the male prints, whoever it had been had stood right above her. Daryl noticed a nail in the wooden floor that had collected a few strands of her frizzy brown hair; he gently plucked them out and stared at them.  He saw Carol pick something off of the floor as well; it was a tattered scrap of a shirt. The same gray shirt that Brandy had been wearing the last time he saw her. He slowly stood up, taking the fabric from Carol and he stared at it. He ran his thumbs over the brown dried blood that stained it. He felt his gut twist, and churn as images flooded his mind all of them disturbing.

“Someone ripped this off of her…” he uttered, swallowing hard so he didn’t vomit. Carol’s eyes slightly started to water, but she shook her head.

“Daryl, we don’t know if that's what happened..” she said, trying her best to comfort him.

“Some man followed her, Carol…” he whispered clenching the fabric in his rough hands. “They found her weak—“

“Daryl please don’t—“

He looked back over at the dust up on the floor, and shook as he thought about could have happened to her. He knew how at the start of this all, she had bashed a man’s skull in with a hammer because he forced himself on her.

He had been helpless when the Governors men had beaten her, while they cut her shirt off of her, how they said that they were going to make squeal. Daryl knew her worst fear, and that shack spoke whispers of that very thing. He put the scrap of her shirt to his face and reached out for the wall, feeling suddenly weak, afraid that if he didn’t stable himself he would fall to the floor and sob.

“Oh God…. oh God… somebody… someone..” he shuddered.

“Don’t say it.” Carol whispered, shaking her head. The words would make the fears real, they would cement the idea that Brandy had assaulted and dragged from that shack and that her fate was than Beth’s.

“They must have left a trail, we’ll find whoever did this and kill them.” She whispered, her voice emotionless. There wasn’t a signal slice of the woman who once cried for the death of her abusive husband, no hint of the frail mother who wanted to be left out of the decision to kill Randal so long ago. Even though her eyes tinged with tears she didn’t flinch, looking at him with her icy glare and he knew that if she ever had to opportunity to make good on her words she would gut who ever laid their hand on Brandy.  Daryl hung his head fighting the tears and the sickening feeling he had curling deep inside.

“There ain’t no use…” he whispered, his eyes slowly sliding back over to the place where she graced the floor with her body. His mind forcing him to see snippets of an event he wasn’t witness too. A scream, her legs bending as she struggled to get away, her balled up fist striking her attacker on the side of his face, the rip of her shirt, and her being dragged from that dirty shack in to the unknown.  “…she’s gone.”

* * *

 

_A white rabbit crossed his path, he moved to catch it but he missed. The rabbit stopped and looked at him, he moved towards it, but as soon as he did it hopped further into the woods. Daryl dropped his crossbow and ran after it, but it seemly disappeared when he came to a house, not just any house the one him and Beth burnt to the ground after drinking moonshine. He nervously reached for the door and slowly opened it, there he saw Brandy telling Beth a hushed secret. Beth looked up at him with those wide blue eyes and giggled, her pale face flushing pink._

_“Hello Daryl.” she said and Brandy looked over at him with a smirk._

_“Ay’ Redneck.” she smiled affectionately. He stared back at the two young women who meant very different things in his mind.  Faith and strength, Dahlia and Daisy, a bond of a little sister while the other seethed with wicked passion._

_“Why did ya do it?” Brandy asked._

_“Yeah, why did you hurt yourself?” Beth questioned, looking sad, Daryl felt the sting on his hand, and he looked down to see the mark that he left on himself the other day after Tyreese had died. His compound grief becoming too much, driving him to self-harm just so he could make sure was still alive._

_“I was numb,” he whispered to the two impossible girls_

_“And you wanted…” Beth started._

_“….To feel something.” Brandy finished the sentence; there was a sudden unmistakable sound of gunshot and Beth’s body dropped forward, blood and pink chucks of brain matter leaking from her busted open skull. Daryl felt the tiny drops of blood splatter on his face; in terror he covered his eyes, and backed away not wanting to see her blonde corpse. He backed into something; and he whipped around to see that Brandy had now appeared behind him.  He shook with terror, as he looked her, now in ripped clothing, her face beaten and battered._

_“Quick deaths are the best,” she said coldly, as she looked over to Beth’s body, whose mouth was in a fixed dreamy smile her eyes were still blinking._

_“Please I—can—t” Daryl trembled, couldn't look at her not like that. There was the sudden wet noise of Brandy choking, he looked back to see her coughing up blood. Her golden brown body went limp; he caught her in his arms and fell to the floor. He felt a shadow over him; the silhouette clear and he knew Merle was there everywhere and yet nowhere._

_“No!” Daryl sobbed as Brandy choked and shook in his arm. She looked up at him, her bloody hand touching his sweaty cheek._

_“Not any more….don’t cry, boy.” she said, but the voice to leave her body wasn’t hers, it was a voice he hadn’t heard since he was a 9 year boy, the voice of his mother coming in clear as day Brandy being a cypher for the woman that he could only image in broken fragments now- speaking through her. He could feel the heat of a fire, and a second everything burned to ash._

* * *

 

Daryl jolted himself awake, the sunlight hitting his face from the RV window. It took him a second to even register where he was or where he was going, it coming back to him as he listened to the others talk.

“Are you okay?” Gabriel asked, noticing horrified pale look on Daryl’s face. He grunted and nodded shortly at the priest’s words. Gabriel intertwined his fingers and looked at Daryl.

“You don’t think this is a good idea do you?”  He asked, looking out the window at the passing Virginia scenery. Daryl looked away and chewed his nails.

“We had camp, and a group of walker came in and killed some of us. Then we were on the run for a bit, then we found the CDC and we thought that of all places would be safe...” he looked back at the Father and sighed. “It wasn’t and we almost all died, we lost someone else there…then there a was a farm…” Maggie glanced over at him as he talked about her old home. We lost people there, and then a herd came through and destroyed it, we were on the road for months and we didn’t lose anyone. We had The Prison and then that too was taken from us by this sack of shit called The Governor who had a town called Woodbury. So many people died there…” Father Gabriel looked at Daryl with empathy and woe. ‘They almost fucking ate us Terminus and that fucking hospital…” he trailed off and looked down. “Every safe place as either been ripped from us or has been a trap… so tell me why Alexandria would be any different, Father?”


	34. Alexandria

“So tell me about yourself Daryl.” Deanna with a smile, but he only narrowed his eyes still clutching the tail of the dead possum that he had killed before they had entered Alexandria’s high steel walls. He didn’t say anything, only trying to feel her out for a hint of deceit, trying to sense the evil that he had come to expect from people who weren't ‘one of them’. Deanna intertwined her fingers and sat back on the couch.

“You don’t trust us."

“If you’d gone through what we have, you wouldn’t trust anyone, either.” Daryl grunted. Deanna leaned forward and surveyed him, he could tell that she was forming an opinion as her blue eyes examined him. She glanced down to the dead possum that he was holding.

“We have better food for you all.” Deanna said but Daryl shrugged.

“We’ve eaten worse.” Recalling rats, worms and mud snakes.

“How have you all survived this long?” the older woman asked, sounding interested.

“We fuckin’ tough.” he said simply with a cold impassive expression.

“I see that.” Deanna smiled. “So how long have you all known each other?” she asked curiously.

“Some us have been with each other for a long time... and some of us are new.” Daryl shrugged.

“Interesting.”

“Why da’ hell is that intrestin’?”

“Your group has evolved, you all seem like you’re good at adapting, we need that.” she paused and swiped a piece of her dark blonde hair behind her ear. “Can ask...how many people have you lost?” Daryl quickly looked up at her, his expression changing instantly, a flicker of sadness coming across his features. Counting back, Amy, Jim, Jacqui, Sophia,  Dale, Shane, T-Dog, Lori, Merle, Hershel, Bob, Beth, Tyrese...Brandy. Daryl didn’t say anything, the question of last one like a splinter under a nail a painful unknown worse than death.

* * *

 

Alexandria was beautiful, the large homes, the manicured lawns, hot water, electricity everything they thought was gone forever. It seemed to be a paradise, but they were always cautious, like a pack feral dogs unsure of a possibly friendly hand. Rick ran his hand down his now clean shaven face, it had become habit since he had gone months without shaving.

“Rick.” he heard a female voice call, he looked over to see Jessie. He narrowed his eyes at the blondes approach, he wasn’t sure what to make of her. She had been kind, almost too kind when they first arrived, running over to their new house with a basket full of of food and toiletries. She even offered to give Rick his first hair cut in months, an offer that he took but still found her hospitality slightly off. He glanced over to one of the large beautiful homes on the street, unlike the others this one seemed dark, all of the blinds were shut and there was an almost palpable aura of sorrow emanating from behind the blue door.

“What are you doing out here?” Jessie asked, putting one thin hand up to shield her light eyes from the sun.

“Who’s house is that?” Rick asked. Jessie glanced over to the darkened house.

“Oh, one of our new people.” she looked down sadly and shifted from foot to foot. “She’s barely said a word since she got here.”

“Yeah, the outside does that to you.” Rick said empathizing with the faceless woman that lived down the street from where his group was.

“Is it that bad?” Jessie asked, almost with stupid innocents, Rick wrinkled his brow as he looked down at the young woman.

“It’s hell…” Rick said before walking away from the blonde. Jessie swallowed and wrinkled her brow before looking back at the darkened house.

* * *

Everything was silent and still, they group were still together almost  all of them huddled in the living room, even though there were bedrooms, minus Daryl who had gone upstairs to explore the unfinished room that Carl found. Rick bounced baby Judith on his knee, Carl and Noah were playing cards, Rosita was cuddled up with Abraham as they both sat against the couch, Carol was in the kitchen making something to eat and everyone else was doing for the first time in a long time nothing. Nothing, such a simple word, lack of, void, but in that still moment in the house in Alexandria that nothingness precious. There was the sound of a knock on the door and they all were instantly snapped from their relaxation, as if ready to fight at the drop of a dime, shaken by the simplest sound.

“I’ll get it.” Rick said, handing off Judith to Michonne who was sitting beside him on the couch. He got up and walked over to the front door, pulling it open he saw Deanna’s older face looking up at him with what seemed to be knowing smile. He glanced behind her, and past the front steps there was someone else, hidden in shadow, whomever it was, was looking down head covered by a sweatshirt hood.

“I’m sorry to bother you all, but um, there’s someone I want you to meet.” she motioned over her shoulder at the shadowy figure behind her. “Now, I know it’s still early and you all are just getting settled in but I really think this person could benefit from meeting your group, Rick.” it seemed that right at the pronunciation of the ‘R’ in Rick’s name the person’s head shot up, and the smallest bit of light of the door hit their face illuminating one white eye and scars. Rick’s mouth dropped open slightly and his lack of words prompted the other members of the group to look around curiously. The shadowy figure moved slowly, slowly up the stairs, and past Deanna in the doorway. No one spoke, only looked in shock as Brandy stood there.

“Holy fuck.” Glenn was the first and only to form words. Rick looked down at the young woman that they all thought was dead or worse. Brandy didn’t say anything, only just staring up at Rick in utter awe. Her eyes welded with warm tears, as he slowly and gently raised his hands and took her face in to both of his palms. And in the most fatherly, loving way, he ran his thumb across the scars on her face. She was gaunt, thin, and looked like she had been hell and back but there she stood.

Carol stepped from the kitchen, she was about to tell everyone that dinner was done, but she stopped dead cold, the words getting trapped in her throat when she saw Brandy standing there, as if she had just appeared out of thin air. Brandy’s expression dropped when she saw Carol, standing there. She had been exiled, she was gone, that very thing causing Brandy’s last words to Rick to be _“Fuck you.”_ Carol walked over to her, and without a word she just grabbed her and held her tightly. The attempt to hold it together was gone and Brandy let out a loud heart wrenching sob as she wrapped her arms around Carol and shook. A few seconds later, Daryl was running down the stairs, hearing the unmistakable of a women crying. He stopped, looking around no one was talking, he noticed how Maggie had a teary eyed smile on her face and Abraham looked slightly confused.

“Da fuck are ya’ll doin’?” he asked in his usual gruff gritty tone. He glanced over to Carol, whose back was to him, she was holding someone but he couldn’t tell who. “Seriously, what happen’?” Carol slowly stepped aside, and it was like a battering ram had hit him in the chest. Brandy looked at him and he looked at her, her yellow kissed brown face, the one blind eye, the scars, the lips. Safe, un-raped, Brandy stood there in the large sweater looking back at him like a ghost. Within a few a steps Daryl closed the distance between them, he grabbed her and held her tightly. She felt so much thinner than he ever remembered, malnourished, and slightly frail. Brandy’s ran her fingers through his greasy hair and shook with sobs in his arms. “I--I thought--you were dead, ” he choked. He felt her smile against his neck before she whispered.

“Thought wrong, Redneck.”

* * *

**One week prior:**

_“Is she still out?” A female voice asked._

_“Yes, Pete says that she was really dehydrated, if Aaron had not found her when he did she would have died within in a few days.” A nothing female voice said, this one younger than the first.  Her brown fingers curled into a fist, her senses registering the list of anomalies, soft bed, warm breeze, clean smells. She could sense where the two unknown where in the room just by their voices. Slowly her eyes opened to slits, she was in a bedroom, the women were at the foot of the bed, their faces were obscured by her purposely limited vision but she could tell they were both white, clean and dressed well._

_“How old you think she is?” the older one asked. Before the other one could speak, Brandy found every bit of strength in her body to push herself up from the bed, in one fluid motion she ripped the IV from her arm and reached over to the lamp on the side table and held it base up, ready to bash someone's head in._

_“Woah!” The older woman said, putting her hands out, while the younger one backed away looking rather scared._

_“Where the fuck am I!?” Brandy screamed, looking around frantically._

_“Put the lamp down.” the youngest one said, trying to reason with her._

_“She’s scared, Jessie. Let me handle this.”_

_Brandy snarled, yanking the lamp shade off, she swung the lamp against the wall, causing the light bulb to break, leaving sharp, jagged pieces._

_“Where am I?” she hissed again._

_“I’m Deanna...and you’re in a safe place, please let us help you…”_

_“No place is safe…” Brandy said, shaking her head._

_“Look out the window.” Deanna, smiled. Brandy glanced over to the open window and paused, she thought she was dreaming when she saw the manicured lawns, beautiful houses and walls. A woman walked down the street with her dog, there were kids, and people exchanging neighborly hellos._

_“Where the fuck…..” Brandy whispered, snapping her head back to the two women who made no motion to disarm her._

_“Northern Virginia.”  Jessie told her, still looking very nervous. Brandy blinked and shook her head, in disbelief._

_“Now, it would help if we knew your name.” Deanna said warmly._

_Brandy stared at them as her well trained brain assessed their threat level. They hadn’t tried to subdue her, they were obviously unarmed and for whatever reason they saved her life, they posed no danger to her and in that moment she knew they were weak, naive to even bring her to their ‘safe- zone’ without knowing a single thing about her and she realized that she was the danger._

_“My names Brandy...Brandy Simmons.”_

_“Well Brandy, welcome to Alexandria.”_

 

 


	35. Lost and Found

_Brandy sat there in Deanna's study, a nervous, wild expression on her face, still in shock from waking up there. She had refused food and drink and hadn't spoken since her initial words to Deanna and Jessie. Deanna pressed record on the camera that was set up and the beeping noise caused Brandy's eyes slide up from the floor._

" _How long have you been out there?" she asked, but was met with silence from the young woman. Deanna sighed and sat back on the couch. "I know it's hard, you must have gone through a lot, but I need to know a few things about you, after that I'll leave you alone to figure out of Alexandria is the place for you." Brandy slightly lowered her thin brow at her words and slowly nodded._

" _I-" she paused, having to gather herself. "I don't know how long it's been since…"_

" _Since what?" Deanna asked._

" _Since I lost my people."_

" _You were with others?"_

" _Ya…" Brandy looked down to her battered knees and picked a scab that wasn't ready to come free yet._

" _Your eye, if you don't me asking…" Deanna watched Brandy's hand and as soon as she changed the topic from her people she stop picking the scab._

" _I'm blind in my right eye." she answered almost impassively at her disability._

" _Were you before?"_

_Brandy shook her head and ran her fingers down the faded but still visible scars on the right side of her face._

" _Nah, it was an accident." she said going for her usual lie. Deanna nodded and intertwined her fingers together._

" _You have a Georgia accent." she said, Brandy raised one of her eyebrows that were permanently thinned out from years of over tweezing. "Why did you head north?"_

" _Where did ya even find me?" Brandy asked, sounding slightly confused by Deanna's wording._

" _Brandy, you were in North Carolina." The older woman said, watching the shock come across Brandy's face._

" _W-what? No." Brandy shook her head, there was no way that she traveled that far._

" _Yes, that was the farthest Aaron and Eric had traveled to find people. You were right outside of Durham." she said. Brandy sat back in the chair slowly, coming to the realization that she had been wandering north subconsciously based on a hope that they all had after the farm. They would pull out their map and try to figure out a way to head north, but they ended up going in circles the whole winter. Deanna stared at Brandy when she put her hand to her chest, and started to laugh as a reaction from her shock._

" _North-haha. We-tried going north a while ago-but-we couldn't because there were herds-haha-and-" she wheezed, putting her hand back on her knee. "We tried to go North before the pr-" her painful manic laughs cracked and instantly dropped to sobs, she clawed at the scab as her body shuddered with cries as she tried to say the word 'prison' but the two syllables got caught in her mouth. "We had a place…." she whispered, now looking over an empty corner as she recalled what happened. Deanna leaned forward, wanting to know what broke the young woman in front of her. "I had a family-I was with them for so long then he came."_

" _Who? Who came?" Deanna asked. Brandy looked over at her, lip twitching, fingers still scratching at the scab that was starting to bleed._

" _The Governor." she whispered, speaking his name as if he had been the devil. "He destroyed everything-everything we had-he killed people." she clenched her jaw remembering him using Michonne's sword to slice through Hershel's neck. "They're all gone-" Brandy whispered, not wincing at all as she peeled the scab free, causing it to bleed even more. She looked up at the camera, eyes red, and nose running she just stared for a moment before speaking._

" _You could never understand what it's like out there…" she whispered in agony._

" _We need people that do."_

* * *

Daryl hadn't remembered Brandy ever being so quiet as she walked next to him. When she found out about Bob, Tyreese and Beth she had cried of course, but everyone could tell that she wasn't really in the right frame of mind to hear about everything just yet even though through her sobs she asked.

"Y'all have a lot of new people." she said, finally breaking the silence as they walked down the enclosed street.

"We do." Daryl grunted, glancing over at her presence by his side was faded her aura felt wilted. She hummed, and ran her finger along the scar under her collarbone, the one she got when he had shot her with his arrow so long ago.

"Where did you find them all?" she asked, not looking at him.

"After it all happened Glenn meet, Tara, Abraham, Rosita, Eugene…" he said conveniently leaving out the part of how Tara had actually been with the Governor, unsure of how Brandy would react to that. "After we all met up again we stumbled on to Father Gabriel and his church and after-" he paused, realizing that he would about to say 'after Beth and the hospital.' He readjusted his words "-After a while we found Noah." Daryl looked down and saw Brandy eyeing his face.

"Last night, I asked what happened and Carol was quick to change the subject." Brandy continued to rub the scar under her collarbone. "What happened, Daryl?" He groaned her at her question, and closed his eyes.

"I don't really wanna talk about it." he uttered before biting his nails.

"I told ya'll what happened to me…" she whispered sounding slightly bitter at the secrecy, she knew why they weren't telling her. It was obvious that they they could see the wear that she had gone through the thirty something days that they had been separated. They all had suffered but Brandy, she suffered completely alone, the mental slight cracks form her isolation showed and it obvious that if she had stayed out there any longer she might have lost her mind. "It's amazing to me...that you all found each other…" Daryl looked at her, her voice sounded as if it were about to crack. "...Not only that you picked up a few people on the way, yet no one found me."

"We tried." he said, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out the star bead that had gone on her bracelet. She looked at in slight surprise and stopped. "I don't understand, things got fuckin' crazy and if I could have found you I would've…" Brandy took the bead Daryl and looked at it.

"So you just left me…" she uttered almost coldly, staring down that he bead. Daryl was taken aback by her words. "I spent a month thinking y'all were dead only to see you y'all again and suddenly you're packin' other people." Daryl narrowed his eyes and tensed his lip at her.

"You ain't got no idea the shit we went through." he said, lowering his voice as he stepped towards her. Her eyes pricked with tears and started to overflow, she felt abandoned by them, cast aside like trash that no one cared about and even though she was finally with them again she had never felt more distant.

"I-I'm sorry, Daryl I just," Brandy hung her head and gave him back the bead and slowly backed away from him. "I'm still in shock, I'm sorry…" she sputtered, turning to walk away, but Daryl reached out and grabbed her wrist, but to his surprise Brandy yanked away from him and shook her head before she turned and walked away. Daryl sighed heavily, and ran his fingers through his hair, he looked up, feeling that someone was there watching him and a window curtain from the house across the street fluttered closed before he could see who was on the other side.

* * *

Daryl kept his eyes down, studying the dirt and grass for indents and track marks. He let out an agitated growl at the sound of Aaron behind him. He had went past the wall to get away from the stuffy, prying atmosphere of Alexandria only to run into Aaron outside, who had politely yet intrusively asked to come with him. He was a talkative man, but Daryl could tell that he just wanted someone who would listen so he dealt with the pretty much one sided conversation as they walked through the woods.

"So, I want to tell you something, but I don't know if I'm going to overstep boundaries." Aaron said as they walked along.

"Then don't say anythang'" Daryl grunted. There was a pause and Aaron sighed, deliberating if he should speak or not.

"You and Brandy-" he started and as soon as he said her name Daryl turned around and stared at him.

"Yer' over steppin'" he warned, Aaron put one hand up and shook his head.

"I'm not trying to, just I'm the one that found her."

"So?" Daryl asked impassively, Brandy wasn't a topic of discussion, especially with someone he didn't really know.

"I saw you guys today, she looked upset and-"

"Mind yer' own business, man." he warned as she turned back around and continued to walk.

"When I found her, she thought I was you…" he said and Daryl stopped in his tracks. "She was out of it, and she was hallucinating. She thought you had found her." Daryl slumped his shoulders and he listened to him. "When she realized that she didn't know me she was so terrified. Daryl clenched his jaw and there was a horrible ping of guilt that ran through him, the idea of Brandy scared, scared, alone and in a weak mental state ripped at him.

"She fainted and was out for days, but the whole time she was muttering about your group…"

"You knew." Daryl turned around and looked at him. "You knew we were her people when you met us. Why didn't you say you had her?" He took a step towards him. Aaron put his hands up, but stood his ground.

"I have a feeling if I said anything about her I would have caught a worse beating... you would have thought I was using her to lure you into a trap." Aaron said, and Daryl tensed his jaw. He was right, they would have feared the worst. They would have asked why he didn't bring her there as proof, they would think that he killed her and wanted to kill them. He knew the thoughts of their hive mind better than Daryl wanted to admit.

"Why did you keep her from us? She didn't even know we were there, what the fuck was the point of that, huh?" Daryl hissed. Aaron sighed and looked down to the grass.

"I don't think you understand her grief, she thought everyone she knew was dead and she got to survive and live somewhere safe." He looked at Daryl and shook his head. "Deanna was scared so she put her on suicide watch."

Daryl blinked at his words, completely shocked at the idea and notion of Brandy, of all people wanting to die. The thought made him remember Beth and how long ago at the farm, she cut her wrist open with broken glass. Her actions had been out of shock from the realization that her mother was really dead and not coming back. She fought through it and grew, stronger than he could have ever thought was possible for her. But tough, self sustaining Brandy, the same Brandy that had been on her own since the start, the idea that she would want to die because she lost them shook Daryl to his core and for the first time wondered if the group had done her more harm than good.

"Did she try-"

"No, it was a precaution" Aaron said and Daryl let out sigh of relief." Deanna was worried about the shock of her seeing you all again that is why she waited until she felt you guys out." he looked away and ran his hands through his hair. "I shouldn't have told you that, but I don't know the manner of your relationship, friends or…" he paused "or whatever, uh. I just wanted you to know because it's obvious you're close and I thought you should know." Aaron said. Daryl narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what his angle was when it came to tell him, but there wasn't one.

"She don't wanna talk to me…" he shrugged, sadly. "She thinks I let her down…I should have looked for her, I just thought she'd be fine." he whispered. Aaron sighed and walked ahead.

"Why don't you just tell her that?" he said as if talking thing out was Daryl's strong suit. He narrowed his eyes at Aaron and spat on the ground.

"Ay' man, why are you so interested, huh?" Daryl asked and Aaron shrugged his shoulders.

"Reunions rarely happen nowadays, I don't want to see it go to waste." he said casually.

* * *

The machetes sat on the kitchen counter and Brandy stared down at them. They were worn; long past pristine condition they had been when she took them from her little brother's room so long ago. Everyone was out at a party to welcome them all to Alexandria, but Brandy couldn't go. Even though they were the reason she was still alive, she couldn't stand to be around them. They made her sick, fluttering about the world without a care. She knew that she would never truly fit in there when one of her first introduction to most of Alexandrians was a talk with some of the women a few days after she had woken up. They had cooed about iced tea, and what to make for dinner that night one of the black women had even told Brandy that she just might have some foundation that just might match her skin if she wanted to try and cover up her facial scars. As if that was just common conversation for them. She knew that party would be more of that, chatting, laughing, drinking without a care in the world. There was a knock at the door, on impulse Brandy grabbed up one of her blades and felt her heart jolt in her chest. She slowly made her way through the dark living room and over to the front door. She glanced through the peephole and sighed before unlocking and pulling the door open

Daryl looked at her as she stood past the threshold of the house, he blinked and his mouth went dry at the sight of her. She was wearing a simple gray dress that came to her mid thighs, he had never seen her in a dress before and the sight slightly stunned him. She wore her usual boots, but now had been cleaned of their coat of mud and dirt. Her hair was loose, falling into actual coils, void of the frizz he had grown to know so well. He glanced down and noticed the machete in her hand and then a backpack by the door. She was prepared to run at a moments notice if she needed to. Brandy didn't say anything only turning around and walking back into the kitchen leaving the door open. Daryl nervously stepped in and closed the door behind himself.

"I thought you would have been at that party." he said.

"No." Brandy said simply as she put her machete back down on the countertop. Daryl stepped further into her house, and chewed his nails.

"Why are you wearin' that dress?" he asked. Brandy stepped out from the kitchen; she looked down at the dress.

"One of the women gave it to me, I just threw it on." she grabbed the skirt and feel the fabric between her fingers.

"Ya look uh-ya look.."

"Nice?" Brandy asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah." he shrugged. There was silence for a moment and Brandy leaned against the wall and just stared at him as if she was trying to figure him out even though she knew him well. He looked at her too, she had never looked so limp, and delicate before. She blinked, shook her head and cleared her throat.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked, sounding unsure. Brandy the hostess, a strange notion.

"Uhh, water." Daryl answered and stood up straight and walked back into the kitchen. Daryl followed, looking around the corner. Something so simple as seeing her turn on a sink, and out a glass under it made him realize how mundane things in the old world were know beautiful. Brandy turned around holding the glass tightly, one hand around the it while the other supported the bottom, to stabilize it in her shaking hand. Daryl reached out and took the glass from her, but Brandy still kept her hands out. She didn't look up to meet his gaze, Daryl wrinkled his brow at her odd behavior before bringing the water to his lips. Brandy inhaled sharply before reaching her hand out slowly to touch the leather of his vest. She didn't say anything, only running her thumb along the button as if she had never seen one before. Her lip twitched slightly, and she hissed back a breath as her eyes pricked with warm uncomfortable tears.

"I-it's so strange-I had these thoughts." she sniffled. "These horrible, horrible thoughts-"

Daryl stared down at her, she seemed so frail and meek, words that would have never associated with Brandy. "I just thought that you were all dead.-I-I could see it-" she shook, not letting go of his vest. "Just images of you all dying-I could hear Judith screaming-a-and-it wouldn't stop-" Brandy sobbed and stammered over her words, Daryl couldn't think of what to say as she pulled on his vest. "I almost lost my mind, but now you-you're here-" Brandy sputtered, as she tried to hold herself together but it was becoming more and more difficult by the moment. "I keep thinkin and thinkin that this is a dream and I'm gonna wake up any moment in that shack." she whispered, the tears rolling down her cheeks that at one point had been pulpy but now where angular and gaunt.

"Brandy I'm here…" Daryl whispered, trying to calm her. Brandy sniffled and looked up at him, both of her eyes were red, and then, though only her left one could see him, her gaze searched his face. He swallowed, slightly uncomfortable by the atmosphere. That vulnerability, those wet, matted eyelashes, and gently parted full mouth. He wanted to kiss her, but was riddled with unsure thoughts. He knew she had just had a very hard time, a mental breakdown and her delicate presence made him think twice about the physical.

"Are we still…?" she trailed off and raised her eyebrow slightly. He could see a flicker of the Brandy he knew past that haze of sorrow and shock.

"If you wanna be." he uttered. Brandy watched as he shifted from foot to foot, it had been a really, really long time since they had enjoyed each others company. Brandy licked her lips and let his vest go.

"I know it sounds fucked up, but I kind of need it…" she whispered.

"Nah, I get it." he said, taking a step towards her. There was a small lit smirk that came to her lips before he kissed her. He groaned slightly at the feeling of her soft lips. Brandy felt his rough hands run up her thigh, pushing up the bottom of her dress. She kissed him harder, slipping her tongue into his mouth and he slightly bucked his hips. His other hand, slipped behind her and he grabbed a handful of her ass. Daryl kissed her jaw line, but this time instead of groaning at his tenderness, Brandy tilted her head back and let him.

"You know we ain't ever fucked in real a bed." she whispered before slipping out of his grasp. Brandy heard him groan in agitation as she she slipped the upstairs. Brandy pushed open the first bedroom door, she reached, it was dark and she made no motion to turn the light on before she sat on the edge of the bed. Daryl stepped in, seeing her figure in shadow, the moonlight from the window, illuminating only a strip of her left side. He gently shut the door, and walked over to her, watching as he shifted her hips and bumped her knees together.

"Turn the light on." he said, taking her by surprise.

"What?" She asked, Brandy could only recall a few times when they fucked around and could actually see each other. Darkness seemed to be the preference for him at least, she had chalked it up to his insecurities, but there was a tiny part of her that didn't want to see him either. It made it detaching when it was in the dark, loss of context only brought back when he spoke or groaned, reminding her that she was sharing her time with him, Daryl Dixon, a very dear friend.

Brandy scooted back and reached out to the side table lamp, the replacement lamp for the one she had destroyed when she had yielded it as a weapon when she had awoken in Alexandria. The light gave off an orange hue, making yellow shades in her brown skin stand out even more. She felt the heat in her cheeks and she licked her lip and glanced to the window to make sure the curtains were closed; they were. Daryl shrugged off his vest and it hit the hardwood floor with a smack. Brandy grabbed the bottom of the dress and pulled it over her head. She was wearing the same black bra that she always wore, the one that used to have tiny little bows on the straps but had long fallen off. Brandy leaned back on her hands and spread her legs. His eyes dropped between her thighs, making out the outline of her pussy through the thin white fabric. He gritted his teeth and knelt on the bed in front of her.

Brandy laid back, kicking her boots off as Daryl ran his hand up her thigh.

"You smell good." he whispered, causing Brandy to laugh.

"Mmm. I know." she said, reaching up to undo his shirt buttons. Daryl pulled his shirt off and threw it to the floor.

"Fuck...you're kinna' hot." Brandy whispered, and Daryl let out a dismissive scoff at her words.

"Kinna? Is that it?" He asked, undoing her bra and yanking it off of her.

"Ya' okay I guess." she said playfully and Daryl silently prided himself on the fact that he could make her smile after all they had been through. He pinched her right nipple causing her to arch her back and moan.

"Just okay? Huh?" he asked before he wrapped his lips around her nipple. Brandy whimpered and bit her lip, as Daryl stared at her as she writhed and wriggled under him. His ability to please always confused her, standoffish, closed off, antisocial and insecure Daryl Dixon somehow always knew which buttons of hers press. Daryl pulled away from her breast and a hint of a smile came to the corner of his lips.

"You do have nice tits." he uttered, sitting up on his knees and hooking his thumbs into the band of her panties and slid them off. His eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up. "Oh...fuck. I ain't ever seen your pussy shaved before." he said, his voice low and rough.

"You like it like that?" She asked.

"A snatch is a snatch, but.." Daryl pulled her legs further apart and slipped between them. "It makes this a bit easier I guess…" Brandy's face burned and her mouth dropped open as he pressed his lips to her cunt.

"Oh!" she yelped, arching her back feeling him groan against her. Daryl looked at her and watched as she the almost pained expression fluttered across her face as his tongue flicked her clit. "Ahh like that-fuck-" Brandy hissed. There was a pride associated with knowing that he could make her feel good. She was clenching the bedsheets, tensing her legs and desperately trying not to pant his name. Brandy moaned loudly, she clasped her over her mouth quickly. A second later she lost it, her body shook and she cried from up under her palm and she threw her head back. With a final shiver Brandy dropped limp back down onto the pillow. Daryl pulled away from her pussy and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

She looked at him to find him smiling with smug satisfaction.

"The fuck you smrikin' at?" she asked.

"It's like yer' possessed when you come." He grunted as he undid his belt.

"Fuck ya, dude." She said, narrowing her eyes and he could see another flicker of Brandy. That attitude having, teeth sucking 'nah' 'chill ma' twangy cursing, that Brandy, the one he knew best. He undid his jeans and Brandy audibly let out an excited pant when he pulled his hard cock free. He didn't say anything, only watching as Brandy slipped two fingers inside of her wet cunt. "I want it." she whispered, and he clenched his jaw and stroked his dick at the sight. "I need it…" she panted. Daryl leaned over her and ran his cock along her slit.

"How bad ya need it?" he growled, savoring the moment.

"Oh, shut the fu-" her words were cut short by the feeling of him filling her with one thrust. Brandy let out a small surprised squeak, but a wicked smirk came to her mouth a moment later.

"Good Lord-" he whispered, he had almost forgotten how good she felt and he couldn't remember the last time he was inside of her. He moved his hips slowly, watching her as she bit her lip and closed her eyes. He put both of his hands against the headboard to stable himself as he started to thrust faster. Brandy hissed, and her eyes rolled in their sockets.

"Yes...ah God…" She panted, as he fucked her harder. The headboard banged against the wall from his force.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

But neither of them cared because for the first time in their friends with benefits relationship they didn't have to worry about noise or rushing to finish as fast as possible. Brandy moved one hand between her legs to rub her clit, the sensation causing her to moan loudly.

"Ahh fuck—" Daryl panted, feeling the tightening in his lower abdomen start to build. "Oh Daryl—why—why are you so good at fucking me?" Brandy thought out loud, causing him to chuckle lowly.

"You ain't as hard to figure out as you thank you are." He breathed.

"I'm ain't?"

"Nah." He said, grabbing her left thigh, he pushed her leg up, forcing him to drive himself deeper inside of her.

"Oh my fuck'-!" Brandy stammered, closing her eyes tightly. He was sitting the sweet spot. "Yes I'm gonna-I'm gonna—"

"Good." He growled and his tone threw her off of the edge. Brandy lost herself, her pussy clenching around his dick, her legs quaking and for the first she actually screamed his name. Daryl hissed and pumped into her a few more times before he pulled out quickly and stroked himself.

"Goddamn it—" he panted before coming on Brandy's stomach. She giggled at the feeling the warm liquid hit her skin. "Ahh shit…" he shuttered, feeling instantly tired one he finished.

"Mmm. Wow." Brandy purred looking down at the mess he made.

"Yeah… it's, uh been a while."

"I can tell, I should clean up," she said and Daryl got off of her. He watched as Brandy got up, eyeing her ass as she slipped out of the bedroom and headed down the hall to the bathroom. "Are you hungry?" she called over the sound of the sink running.

"Nah, I just had some spaghetti." He said pulling his pants back up. There was a pause and Brandy walked back down the hall, she stood in the doorway naked, using a wet washcloth to wipe his cum away.

"What? Spaghetti? Who da' fuck made spaghetti?"

"Uh…Aaron invited me over for dinner at his place" Daryl said, and Brandy blinked at him.

"Wait, you went ova' to Aaron's… as in Aaron, who has a boyfriend named Eric…?"

"Yea" Daryl shrugged, feeling his face flush slightly. Brandy leaned her head against the doorframe and stared at him with a tiny tender smile. "Stop lookin' at me like that. He just wanted me to come over so he could ask me bout' goin out there and getting' people and shit."

"No." Brandy said, the word, leaving her mouth before she could catch it.

"Pssf, Oh so I need yer' permission?" he asked, flicking his brown hair out of his eyes.

"Oh please, I ain't mean it like that, it's just…"

"What you worryin' about me?" he asked.

"I worry bout everyone you know that. I wanna come too" Brandy said and Daryl got up and walked over to her.

"I can ask if he needs any extra help." He looked down at her as she stood there still nude.

"Good, cuz havin me in here baby sitting is a mother fuckin' waste and there ain't no way in hell stayin in this place all fuckin' day." Brandy walked over to her dress and slipped it back on. "All these damn people talk about his like, food and ice tea. I would rather kill myself." She looked at him and noticed that his expression changed at her words. He thought back to what Aaron had said about her, mental state when they found her. "What?" Brandy asked and Daryl shook his head.

"Nothin' uh, I should get goin" he huffed. Brandy put her hands on her hips and looked at him.

"You can stay here if ya want."

"I can?"

"Yes, Dixon. You can."


	36. Foolishness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place right at the end of season 5. I'm going to try to have updates every week for season 6. ^___^

Brandy hollowed her cheeks, taking a long drag of her cigarette as she sat on the porch, her boots up on the white railing. She knew she should have felt something, anything. A young man, Noah who had joined the group after the prison had died on a run just a day before and when she found out she only blinked and delivered a cold, 'I’m sorry.' She never knew him like the others did and that alone made her feel like an outsider to her own family. As if a voyeur looking in, someone who had been thrown aside and cast out for others. To her, the new members of the group were still strangers to her. Bob, Tyreese, Beth...those were her people that felt like they had just replaced by newer faced impostors.

Lulling back in the chair, Brandy took another long, cancerous drag and then blew the smoke out into oddly shaped wiggling rings.

“Fuck,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. She had wanted to go with Daryl and Aaron on a run, but Deanna had said that she didn’t think that was a good idea. Telling Aaron that 'she was wasn’t emotionally ready to go back out.' As if she would know anything about being ‘ready’. When she had first woken up at Alexandria they put her on watch for suicidal actions after hearing about everything that happened. And from then on she knew that these people with their houses, electricity and ignorance to what the world was really like had branded her the ‘poor crazy girl’ stupid to the fact that she would never hurt herself but others? Maybe.

“Brandy,” she heard, the deep voice snapping her out of her thoughts. With another long pull off her cigarette, she looked up and saw Rick, dressed in his officer's outfit. It was odd seeing him dressed like that again, she had almost forgotten that he had actually ever been a cop. She remembered his brown Sheriff's Department shirt and badge. He strolled up on to the porch and leaned against the railing.

“Officer Friendly, eh?” Brandy said as she plopped feet down with a loud thud and looked over at him.

Rick shook his head and folded his arms. “Not really, you still pissed off?”

“Of course I am. You know runs are what I do.”

“Yeah,” he put his hands in his pockets and looked down to his boots. “But they don’t know that,” he said, mentioning the truth about her that she kept hidden away from anyone new. How would she even explain to those people what happened to her, and how it changed her? They wouldn’t understand and she knew that they would only fear her more. “I don’t think they should know, they don’t know what they’re doing here.”

Brandy took the last pull of her cigarette before putting it out on the sole of her boot. “Maybe if they did know, I could have gone with Glenn and 'em on that run. Maybe if I did that Noah kid would still be alive and…” she paused trying to think of the girls name. “and maybe Tara wouldn’t be hurt right now.”

Rick shook his head and sighed, “You’ll still doing that, blaming yourself. I thought you stopped that.”   
Brandy folded her arms and looked up at him. “I tried back home.” Home. The prison. “ I tried to tell myself that people die and it isn’t always my fault...but then that shit happened and I thought you all died,” she shook her head. “So yeah, when you see the faces of everyone you care about in your nightmares and they are nothing dead things...and you’re still alive because whatever nonsense you are, it’s kind of hard to kill that guilt.” Brandy pointed at the scarred side of her face, and to her blind ruined eye. “This shit isn’t free, boo.”

Rick nodded, they all knew how she felt about, who she internalized every death as something she could have prevented. “You were all alone out there.” Rick stepped forward and cupped her chin forcing the young woman to look up at him. “Hey, seriously are you okay?” Rick asked his tone very much of a father asking the question to an injured child.

“Are you?” she asked, her words taking him by surprise.

“Hi, Rick.” They both heard and he turned around to see Jessie walking by, she waved at him, but he noticed that her face was slightly flushed pink and her smile was forced.

“Morning Jessie,” Rick said as he stepped from in front of Brandy moving towards porch stairs. Jessie looked at Brandy and then smiled, not realizing she was there at first, but Brandy’s narrowed eyes followed the blonde as she walked by, not granting her a smile nor a wave. Rick heard Brandy let out a thick ‘Ugh’ noise as she looked at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Really now, really….” Brandy said, going to dig in her jean pockets for her pack of cigarettes. Carol had told her about how Rick might have a thing for Jessie. Carol really didn’t lie, especially to her, but maybe she took a glance and thought it was something else but when she watched the way Rick's eyes followed her, it was the truth. “She’s married,” Brandy said rolling her eyes.

“I know,” he looked down and tightened his lips. “Her husband beats her.”

“Well no, shit Pete's a fucking weirdo,” Brandy said noticing how Rick clenched his teeth at the mention of the man’s name. “...dude, relax.”

“Someone has to do something about it.”

“Oh my God.” Brandy uttered, he really was doing this. He really had a ‘thing’ for this random woman. Before things went to shit Brandy remembered how cagey he was about new people, he didn’t like them, he didn’t trust them, but somehow this mediocre blonde gathered his full attention. “You’ve known this woman for all of what? Five fucking seconds and you’re already itching to take care of her husband?”

Rick looked up at her, and she knew that expression, he had worn it right after Lori had died when he had lost himself for a bit. “You don’t think we should do anything?” he cocked his head to one side and Brandy’s over plucked eyebrows inched up her face. She slowly stood up and faced him, as her fingers working on pulling another cigarette out of the pack.

“So, you want to start a problem here over this random woman?”   
Rick put his hands on his hips and stared her down, them butting head wasn’t new. He recalled one of their very last interactions before the prison fell, and how she slapping him across his face after she found out how he exiled Carol without telling anyone. She always called him out on his bullshit, much like Michonne did but unlike his best friend, Brandy always used venom.

“I honestly couldn’t give a rats ass about that woman, I care about my own first. You start some shit over some pussy-”

“You better watch your mouth.” Rick hissed, but Brandy ignored him.

“- Deanna is going to kick your ass out, and I’m pretty sure Carl and Judith need their daddy.” She lit her cigarette and took a drag. “Can’t you get your dick wet somewhere else?”

“Excuse me?” He clenched his jaw, she was working on his nerves and she knew it.

“You heard me. And by the way, like I said you need to focus on your own people because Sasha needs fucking help right now.” She said brushing past him, leaving Rick standing on porch fuming from her words.

* * *

 

It hadn’t been more than forty-five minutes later before Brandy heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering from down the street. Her hand instantly reached for the machete that was always at her hip, hissing when she realized that she left it back at the house.

“Fucking shit!” she ran towards the sounds of screaming, her mind instantly going to walkers. Some of them must have got in somewhere, but when she saw what all the commotion was about she was shocked and then furious. Rick was on the ground, bloody beating the living shit out Pete. “Rick!” Brandy screamed as if her yelps would be enough to cause him to stop but, of course, he didn't. They flipped, and Pete gained the upper hand somehow, putting his hands around Rick’s neck. Jessie ran up and attempted to pry her husband of Rick but he backhanded her and she fell to the ground. Brandy wasn’t sure she should try to assist, she wasn’t that physically strong herself. Rick punched Pete in the face and got back on him beating Petes face with his fist repeatedly.

“Dad get off!” Carl yelled, grabbing at his father. She had enough after she watched Rick push his own son to the hard cement. He was in a blind rage and if this kept up he would kill Pete.

“Enough!” She screamed, finally running over to the two fighting men. It wasn’t her most wise moment, but she tried to yank Rick off of Pete. Her hands pulling at his jacket. “Rick! The fuck is wrong with you!? Fucking stop it!” There was a sudden shot of pain that sprinted across Brandy's face and she stumbled backwards, stunned. Rick had elbowed her right in the mouth, splitting her lip. Tears pooled her eyes in reaction to the pain, as she dabbed the blood from her mouth.

“Damn it, Rick! I said stop! Deanna yelled, and somehow that stopped Rick’s tirade and he let Pete go. A few men including Glenn stepped forward and to everyone's shock Rick pulled his gun, aiming it around at seemingly everyone. “You still don’t get it! None of you do! We know what needs to be done we do it! We’re the ones that live!!” He ranted his finger on the trigger, moving his arm around haphazardly. “All you do is sit! Plan and hesitate!” Brandy wanted to tell to tell him to stop it, but for the first time ever--she was scared of him. His were right, yet he still so wrong and stupid at that moment. “You pretend like you know when you don’t!” Brandy looked around wishing that Daryl and wondering where Michonne was, they were the only two people that stop him, the only two he would listen to. “You wish things weren't what they are. Well, you want to live? You want this place to stay standing? Your way of doing things is done. Things don’t better because you want them to! Starting right now we have to live in the real world. We have to have to control who lives here.”

“That’s never been more clear to me when it is right now.” Deanna said, and Brandy felt her gut drop. She warned him, she fucking warned him.

“Me?” Rick pointed at himself. “Me?” He repeated looking up at Deanna with insanity in his eyes. “You,” he paused and laughed, he was utterly terrifying in that moment, his face and hair covered in blood and he reminded her in that second of Shane and even worse, of the Governor. “You mean me? Your way is going to destroy this place.”

“Someone...please fucking stop him.” Brandy said, but just like her no one moved scared of being shot by him.

“Your way is going to destroy this place. It’s going to get people killed, it’s already got people killed. And I’m not just going to stand by and let it happen. “If you don’t fight you die! I’m not going to stand by an--” and suddenly out of nowhere, Michonne ran up and knocked Rick out cold.

* * *

  
Glenn, Carol, Brandy and Abraham came by to see him when he finally woke up the next day in the unfinished house that Deanna wanted him held in. They had questions for him, but Brandy had a few of her own she wanted to ask. 'Why are you being such a dickface?' was the number one thing she wanted to know.

“Where'd you get the gun?” Michonne asked she had been there all night watching him. Brandy stood by the door licking at her busted lip as Carol grilled him about the gun.

“I took it just in case,” he said, and Brandy rolled her eyes. They started talking about the meeting that was happening that night, it was obviously going to be a vote. All in favor of kicking Rick Grimes out of Alexandria say ‘Aye. They had a plan, just in case things went bad. They would threaten to kill people if they voted to remove him from the safe zone. Brandy wasn’t above taking over that place with violence, they had all violent things for their own means. She remembered gunning down innocent people at the prison that had no idea what the Governor was doing, just mindless followers and she killed them, anyway. The reason for all of this drama was the only thing that rubbed her the wrong way.

“Oh my fucking God,” she finally groaned, “ We are all knee deep in shit because you wanna fuck Jessie, b.” Everyone looked at her and Michonne made an odd face at her words.

“Her husband was beating her,” Carol said, shaking her head at the young woman.

“And what?” Brandy threw her hands up in the air. “This is about you.” She pointed an accusatory finger at Rick and he noticed her split lip. “Wanting something, you would have made up some other reason to get rid of her husband.” She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’m here for the idea of taking this place, Carol’s right, these people are fucking children. They are dumb, they are stupid and they don’t deserve this place...we do...but you really fucked us on this.”

Abraham let out a laugh from behind her and shook his head. Rick looked at her lip, “Did I do that?”

“Yes, asshole. You sure did,” she hissed licking the still hot wound. Rick hung his head, her words were like hot pokers.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, and Brandy rolled her eyes again.

“Dude, what the fuck ever.” she spat. “I’m down for whatever happens tonight, you know that shit. But...I ain’t happy.” With that, she stormed out of the house, ready to go back ‘home’ and wait for the meeting that she knew would end with someone dying. A few moments later she heard Carol calling after her. She looked over her shoulder her at Carol, it so odd to see her dressed like that. She looked like the perfect suburban mom, the kind that would be happy to cut the bread crust off of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for you. “Yeah?”

Carol cupped her chin and ran her thumb over the cut on her lip. “He didn’t mean it, you know what right?”

“Of course I do. I shouldn’t have tried to stop it, two grown ass men fighting each other.”

“Yeah, not the brightest of moves. Did you mean what you said back there? About taking this place, if need be.” Her thumb still lingered on Brandy’s swollen lip.

“You know me,” Brandy spoke and Carol smiled and took her by her hand.

“Come on, I’ll make you something to eat..” Carol said and Brandy nodded. "We have to talk about some things."

* * *

Being in the loop again was an on odd feeling, especially when she heard what Carol had to say over tea and casserole. How she had threatened to kill Jessies little boy Sam when he caught her in the armory, how her, Rick and Daryl had planned on stealing the guns, how she planned on Rick killing him. Yet, Brandy held true to her feelings that the reason for all of this nonsense was because Rick hadn’t been fucked in too long, and Carol agreed but told her that Pete still needed to be dealt with. On Carol's request, Brandy stayed back from the meeting, just in case things went south she wanted her on the outside as a backup. A knock at the front door startled her and she grabbed up her machetes.

“Who is it?” she called, moving towards the door

“Me.” Daryl’s gruff voice called from the other side. Brandy quickly unlocked the door and pulled it open at first her only noticed him.

“Thank god, you're back.”

Instantly Daryl noticed her split lip, “What happened?” He asked and Brandy went to part her lips, but Aaron spoke before she could.

“Where is everyone?”

“Ugh, they are - who’s that?” her thoughts halted when she noticed an older black man them.

“This is Morgan.” Daryl said Morgan smiled at her and she curtly nodded back.

“Right, uh. Shit, they are all at a meeting.”

Daryl’s face flashed with worry, “About what? What happened?”

She didn’t really know what to say, especially in front of someone who knew. Hearing that there was a massive fist fight over some domestic violence wouldn’t make them look very good. “Deanna might wanna you know, tell you about it, they're at her house. Come on I’ll walk with y’all down there.” Brandy said, grabbing up her hoodie from the hook beside the door and slipped it on. Daryl was itching to ask her what exactly happened, but as soon as he opened his mouth there was yelling, then screaming then finally a gunshot.

All four of them took off scurrying towards the noise, and when they came up towards the group of people huddled by a bonfire they saw what happened. Pete’s head was practically blown off, and in his dead hand he held Michonne's sword, Deanna was sobbing, holding her husband, whose throat had been slashed and right there over Pete was Rick covered in blood with his gun out.

“Rick?” Morgan’s voice said killing the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not enough Rick and Brandy in the fic so here you go, her going off about shit lol. She's a bitch.


	37. The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time hasn't it? I'm sorry for the delay, life happens you know? Seeing as the first few episodes of season 6 take place on the same day the first few chapters will feel very condensed. As in each episode will not have its own chapter. I'm a season behind, I'm sorry >.

She had forgotten how loud the bike was; it sounded liked it needed a tune up. All rumble and growl. The sky above was clear, endless blue like a pressed cornflower sheet. She could feel the sunlight warm on the top of her head, the little wisps of wavy baby hair tickling her forehead with the breeze. Her right cheek was resting on the cool, yet dirty leather, of his jacket. It smelt as always of what she described as "Outside" that grassy, sweaty, earthy smell. Not the most darling scent in the world yet, not the most disgusting, Brandy by now was very used to the scent. She held on to him; her arms were wrapped around his waist. Her fingers idly drummed on his hard abdomen as they rode. It would have been a nice country ride if it wasn't for the hundreds of hissing, gagging and rotting walkers behind them.

There were thousands of them, in the quarry to the west. Each day their noise brought more and more. They wouldn't have known about it unless Rick and Morgan hadn't taken Pete's dead body outside of the walls to bury him. He wouldn't be respected to lay to rest inside of Alexandria. Brandy saw it that Pete's death might have saved them all. If Rick hadn't killed him, then they would have never been outside to find the quarry in the first place. All it could take was one good rain to move the trucks that blocked the area to send a mega-horde of walkers right for them. They would have been ill prepared, and for sure would have all died. They had a plan, lead the walkers 20 miles out, double back and be home for dinner.

Brandy let out a groan and finally spoke to Daryl over the thunderous sound of his bike.

"Are you goin' speak to me at all or?" she asked.

"Ain't nothing to speak about,"

"Yer seriously still mad at me?" Brandy asked, but Daryl didn't respond, and Brady rolled her eyes in the back of her head. "I appreciate your concern, but you can't keep me locked up back there,"

"Ain't nobody trying to keep you locked up," Daryl said, it was a blatant lie. He attempted to hide his motivations but, but Brandy saw through them like glass. After the prison had fallen she had spent thirty days alone; the isolation had taken a visible toll on her physically and mentally. He would never admit out loud, but she had become far more 'Beth' to him. Old Brandy's toughness had cracked and given way to something far more delicate and fragile, yet her stubbornness was still very much there.

The old beat up car pulled up next to them, and Abraham rolled down the window.

"How you holding up there, girly?" he asked, Brandy cut him a look. The newer members of the group were finding it hard to relate to Brandy finding her as nice as a caged snake but Abraham was hell bent on making an attempt. Sasha chuckled and shook her head, at him from the driver's seat.

"My name ain't 'girly' " Brandy hissed, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, Fine," Abraham chuckled as he rolled up his window. "Does she usually stay giving everyone dirty looks or is it just me?"

"She doesn't know you," Sasha said with a smile. "Brandy's not the most friendly of the bunch. Give her time; she'll warm up to you."

Abraham looked back out of the window at Daryl and Brandy as they rode along side of them. He noticed that one of the young woman's hands was grabbing one of Daryl's tensed thighs.

"She seems pretty warm on Daryl," he laughed. "I would have never thought that a girl like that would be Dixon's type."

"Will you cut it out, that is just a bunch of gossip," Sasha smiled. "I don't even think they are like that," she glanced out of the window and saw that Daryl and Brandy were obviously talking about something, but they couldn't hear about what. "And even if they are, why would she not be his type? Because she's black?"

Abraham blinked quickly and then looked back at Sasha. "I didn't say that."

"Oh, you implied it."

* * *

 

"Maybe we should check in on them," Brandy said, looking back at the herd that was following. Daryl got on the radio to call Rick, but when he clicked over, there was only the sound of crackling static. He tried again.

"Rick, what is going on back there?" Daryl said, trying to call Rick once more. This time there was a panted answer.

"Half of them broke off; they're headed towards Alexandria,"

"Fuck," Brandy uttered,

"We ran ahead. There's a horn or something. Loud, coming from the east. It's not stopping." Rick said, sounding winded.

"We gotta go back," Brandy uttered emphatically. Daryl agreed and told Rick that they would turn around to assist, but Rick refused.

"We have it. You keep going,"

"You're going to need our help," Daryl said shaking his head. Rick wouldn't have any of it; the plan had to stick. The walkers needed to be 20 miles out, a safe distance. Reluctantly Daryl agreed, and the radio went silent.

Brandy protested Daryl's minor detour, his attempt to double back only ending with them right back with Sasha and Abraham again. They finally hit 20 miles, at Interstate 642. The plan was to put the distance between them and the walkers and then head back. Given everything that was happening at Alexandria, the knew they needed to hurry up and complete the task at hand.

"You okay?" Daryl asked Brandy, knowing that when she got silent, she was thinking, losing her general chatty box nature.

"Yeah, I'm just wo--" her words were sliced short when there was the sudden sound of gunfire around them. Brandy let out a shocked scream as she tried her best to duck. Daryl weaved the bike, trying to evade the shots but the old bike ended up failing at maneuvering and slid on the pavement. Brandy hit the ground hard, and she bashed her hip. "Fuck!" she screamed, as Daryl picked the bike up as fast as he could.

"Brandy! Hurry up!" he yelled, watching her clammer to her feet. They both got back on the bike and tried to speed off. Brandy whipped her head behind them and clenched her teeth at the car that was following.

"Fuck this," she hissed, reaching for her handgun. Half hazardly she shot at their attackers as they sped off, finally ditching them as they drove off into the woods. The bike let out a pathetic sputter and gave out under them. Brandy panted and clenched her teeth and looked around; the woods were black and charged under the now gray sky.

"What the shit was that?" Brandy asked sitting up, a sudden pain registering on her shoulder. "Ow," she looked down to see that she had been shot. Daryl got to his feet and helped her up off of the ground, and looked at her wound.

"Yer only grazed,"

"Yeah," Brandy blinked to his bloody hand and looked at him. "Fuck, did they get you too?"

Daryl shook his head and pulled off his jacket slowly, exposing cuts and scrapes from when he fell. It was obvious that the bike was fucked, Daryl sighed and covered it with a thick bustle of down branches. He tried the walkie talkie for help. There was only the lonely sound of static on the other end.

"Ya see, this is what I was telling ya. You should have stayed behind," he said, looking at her with his narrowed blue eyes.

Brandy lowered her over-plucked brows and put one hand on her hip and leered at him. "Oh stop, don't blame this one me--"

"I ain't blaming ya I'm just--" there was a sudden snap of a twig, Brandy jumped, and Daryl's eyes darted forward. "Get behind me," he demanded, and Brandy did as he told, her heart now throbbing in her throat. She pulled out one of her machetes, and Daryl stalked forward with his crossbow ready. They both moved carefully through the burnt woods, Brandy following Daryl's lead to stay quiet, silent and close to him. Another pop and Brandy felt a warm itching drop of blood run down her arm from her wound. They both turned the corner of a tree and were startled by the sight of two women, they both had their hands up and looked disgustingly dirty.

"You found us, okay! Here we are! We earned what we took," one of them said. There was another snap of a twig, both Brandy and Daryl turned around to see a man. He swung something; it happened so fast that Brandy didn't see what it was at. First, he hit Daryl right in the head, and he dropped hard to the forest floor.

Without a word, Brandy swung her blade at him. He dodged, and she missed, the metal cutting the air with a brilliant whoosh. She felt a sudden kick in the back of her leg, and she almost fell forward. Before she could curse and turn around and slice one of the women the man brought down his blunt object on her head. There was a stunning flash of white exploded behind her eyes and then darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Authors Note: Seeing as most people read this story for the romantic angle of Daryl and Brandy I decided to keep them together during this


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short, but it's here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I know. I'm so behind lol.

Her skull buzzed, as her swimming consciousness flooded her head once more. Her senses returning slowly, each one stepping into the foreground after the other. The pain in her head was first, hard and throbbing with its own heartbeat. She felt the bonds around her wrists, her cheek against the very familiar feeling of grimy jeans and she knew her head was currently resting in Daryl's lap. Brandy heard him let out a grunt and smelt the scent of rotting leaves and realized that they both were still in the woods. Soft distant female whispers, then the sounds of boots right in front of her face. Brandy slowly peeled her eyes open, and they rolled in their sockets for a second, her vision blurred for a moment before she saw the shoe and pants of their attacker.

"Get up!" he demanded, his voice sounded so loud to her still ringing ears, and in response, she let out a small whimper and blinked up at Daryl. He was staring back at the man; his lips pressed in that very defiant line, ever so unthreatened. "I said get up!" the man said again, this time poking Daryl in the leg with his gun, ignoring Brandy completely. To him, the short girl who was slumped over was less of a threat than a baby bird, directing all of his fragile masculinity at Daryl. Ignorant to the fact that Brandy in all of her softness was already plotting how she would murder him and the two girls he was with when she got the first chance. The man pointed his gun at Daryl's face, and instantly Brandy started to play the part that she knew would be beneficial to them both.

"Please!" she yelped, startling both of the men with her birdy and helpless tone. "Don't hurt him," she sat up, eyes wet and stared back at the man. She made a note of his eyes, and how they flickered across her face and then quickly to her exposed cleavage. His grip on the gun loosened and he looked back at Daryl.

"Get up, both of you, we're movin'. Here's the deal, you don't say shit, and I don't kill you. Ya got it?" he looked at Brandy again. " I'll blow his brains out in front of ya, if he tries anything, you got that?" he said, once again foolish to assume that Daryl would be the one trying things, unaware to the sparking rage that was going through her at that moment. She nodded, her lip twitching as she forced actress tears.

"I'm not who you think," Daryl grunted, and the man took the safety off his gun and aimed it at him again. "Say something else."

Brandy let out a cry; she knew he wouldn't shoot. His hand was shaking, and those girls were watching. She knew he wouldn't kill Daryl right there in front of them. He was bullshitting, trying to look tough.

"Please don't hurt my husband..." her words were a broken whimper, and at them, Daryl glanced down at her. His face didn't give anything away but he was surprised She was taking a page right out of Carol's book, appealing to humanity. The man said nothing, only reaching down and grabbing Brandy up first, she stumbled still dizzy for the hit in the head, but she quickly regained her balance. He yanked Daryl up next and pushed him.

"Follow them, " he demanded at the both of them motioning towards the two dirty and thing girls that he was with. They did as they were told, both bound by their wrists continuing to walk. Brandy's mind was keeping track of things; she could take the smaller girl if she got her hands undone, remembering that she had a knife in her back pocket. She could threaten to kill the girl if they refused to let them go. Her internal thoughts were hushed silent when they stopped.

"If they find us; maybe we give you to them. They let us call it even. See we're reasonable people. Everyone's got their code. You feel you gotta kneel we don't," the man said to Daryl. Brandy thought about speaking, once again trying to make it clear that they were not who they thought they were, but there was no point. It was made evident that these people refused to listen. Even more curious to her was who they were talking about. She listened silently as they spoke about how they scorched the forest, every so often Daryl would glance at her, with a look she knew. Without words they could read each other, the faintest of body language speaking what couldn't be spoken. It wasn't just them, they all did it. Rick would tilt his head, Carol's lips would form a tight line. Brandy's no words language were long slow blinks. It all meant the same two things "First sign we kill them" or "First sign we run." This moment was befitting of "run".

Their captors got to the location they wanted to find, a truck yard of some sort. It was overrun, the thinner girl dropped her bag and started to talk about someone named 'Pattie' and how she could still be alive. The smaller girl suddenly fainted, and in that split hair of a second Brandy and Daryl gave each other sliced looks and quickly he snatched up their supplies and as fast as two rabbits, they ran. They both sprinted through the burnt out forest; a sharp twig sliced the side of Brandy's arm, but she ignored the sting. They both for far away enough to finally stop and Daryl pulled out the walkie that they stole.

"Sasha, Abraham are you there?" he panted, hoping to hear something on the other end, but there was only the hiss of static.

"Fuck," Brandy hissed as they both heard the gargling of a walker. "I got it," she sighed pulling out the small knife from her back pocket. With a quick stab in the head, it dropped to the forest floor. She panted, her lungs still burning from their solid sprint before she turned back to Daryl. He was looking in the large canvas bag with, a worried look across his brow. "What?"

"We gotta go back," he grunted, and Brandy wasn't sure she heard him right at first.

"What the fuck did you just say?" she walked towards him and looked down and in the bag, labeled clearly was a cooler of insulin. "Mmm. That's a good find, we could use that at Alexandria." Brandy said, and she was surprised Daryl looked up at her as if she had just spoke another language.

'That girl, that's why she fainted," he said, watching Brandy shrug her shoulders cooly.

"So? Who fucking cares?"

"What?" Daryl stood up to face her, shaken by her icy demeanor. "Nah, we have to go back, she'll die--"

"Why do you give a shit about that girl? They jumped us; they attacked us when we did nothing to them, Daryl. They did this; they gotta pay." She said, her words like a chilly bladed ax. Daryl stared at her, but Brandy didn't back down. Daryl blinked once and then twice as he stared at her. The hardness in her expression could not be denied, a late season cricket landed on her bare collarbone and she flicked it away with one thin finger and kept staring at him. Brandy, the same girl who once made a bracelet for that long gone, little ghost Sophia, now didn't flinch at the idea of a young woman dying.

"Who are you being right now?" Daryl asked pacing back and forth like a confused caged animal before he shot her a glance. Brandy tilted her head, as if she didn't hear him right and then she lowered her thin brows and tightened her lips.

"I'm being the bitch that had to fend for herself when her family abandoned her," she hissed with so much venom he thought she would spit at him. Brandy had never fully got over what happened at the prison, her isolation from the group left her noticeably bitter. "We need to find Abe and Sasha, that is what the fuck we need to be doing. After that, we need to get home. Not worrying about some people that jumped us. That little bitch and her group can choke for all I care." She said before her one brown eye and one white one flickered back up to Daryl. " Our people is what matters not your hero complex."

Daryl watched in shock as Brandy turned away from him and started to walk in the direction that they originally came from.

"Ugh, where the fuck do you think yer' goin'?" he grunted, yanking her by her wrist. Brandy looked down at his hand as if it was attached to a stranger, someone unknown man whose touch hadn't wandered every part of her body.

"I'm going back to the road and I'm gonna find Abe and Sasha," she snatched away from him. "Go, go run back to the guy who pointed a gun at your head in order to try to save some girl who wouldn't do the same for you." Brandy paused and looked away from him. "You can save that chick a thousand times over, and it still wouldn't save Beth's life. Daryl's mouth slightly dropped open at how cold her words were.  
"Please, try not to get your head blown off," she uttered before keeping to her promise and heading back towards the road, determined to keep her own her number one priority.


End file.
